Fortune Favours the Damned
by AkoyaMizuno
Summary: Sirius hasn't the first clue who this green eyed stranger is exactly, but he's here now and somehow he's Sirius' problem. AU Rating upgraded due to language and theme.
1. That could have gone better

**Fortune Favours the Damned**

_Rating: T_

_Story Notes: Alternate Universe. Slightly overpowered Harry. I'm teaching an old dog new tricks here folks. No non-canon pairings yet, no promises either._

_Summary: Sirius hasn't the first clue who this green eyed stranger is exactly, but he's here now and somehow he's Sirius' problem._

*****

**Chapter One:** That could have gone better

Meetings with the Order of the Phoenix were always messy business. There were simply too many people involved for any sort of real organization to occur. It didn't help that Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was really too small to accommodate the number of people that regularly tried to cram into it. In fact it was physically impossible to have the whole Order there at once. Not that the whole Order gathered _anywhere_. It was too dangerous.

This meant that most information that was handed out filtered down the ranks through a haphazard communication scheme most sane people would refer to as 'gossip.' Official lines of communication existed in case of emergency, or the rare case of a true Need To Know, but most members of the Order learned more through casual conversations then they did through their official contact.

There was, however, a core group of wizards and witches that were kept more or less in the loop by very irregular meetings held at the esteemed home of the House of Black. Sirius had never worked out exactly what determined advancement to the core group but he suspected that it had a lot to do with the whims of Albus Dumbledore. And, really, who was he to question the Almighty Headmaster? (Sirius privately suspected that he was only included because they were using his house and he wasn't about to risk his status by questioning it.)

And so it was that Sirius found himself fighting off boredom on a Sunday afternoon while listening to very practical, and utterly dull, conversation on recruitment for the Order.

Currently Minerva McGonagall and Alastor Moody were debating recruiting sixth and seventh year students who were still at Hogwarts. Minerva was righteously horrified at the thought, while Moody was waffling between the security risks and the pros of having sources at the same age as some of the younger Death Eater recruits.

Sirius ran his gaze around the room, gauging reactions for a lack of better things to do. Albus stood by the floo, looking thoughtful and otherwise completely unreadable as always. Frank and Alice Longbottom sat a few feet away from the Headmaster, Alice looked uncertain but Frank had a speculative look on his face that made Sirius think he was for this idea. Arthur and Molly Weasley stood off in a corner, furious whispering making Sirius think that Arthur was trying to talk Molly out of hexing anyone who even considered recruiting children.

Snape – and here Sirius repressed a shudder at ever allowing the Slytherin within ten feet of his house – was scowling. Not that this was unusual. Besides, who cared what the greasy git thought? Sirius skipped past Snape quickly and rested his gaze on James.

James Potter met Sirius' eyes with a pained look and a helpless gesture towards Lily. His best mate's wife was staring at her hands with the shut down expression she always wore whenever the subject of children came up.

Lily Potter, the only person in history known to have survived the Killing Curse.

Lily Potter, who twenty-two years ago had been eight months pregnant when Voldemort had thrown an Avada Kedavra that hit and rebounded on the Dark Lord. Voldemort's body was destroyed that day, but the child in Lily's womb died and Lily was left unable to have children ever again.

It had been a hard blow to take, even with Voldemort's defeat. And now the bloody tosser had found a way back and in just one year things had gotten so bad that they were talking about bringing children into the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix.

Sirius gestured at James to get her the hell out of the room. If anything important was discussed they could be told later. Remus would have to be updated anyway since he couldn't make it to the meeting. _And Peter, of course._

Sirius couldn't help but wonder about that exclusion. Of the Marauders the only one who wasn't part of these core Order meetings was Peter Pettigrew. Albus knew that they would share any really important information with him anyway; why not just let him sit in? It made Sirius think that their old Headmaster didn't fully trust the rat animagus. The thought left an itch under Sirius' skin and made him leave out things he might have said otherwise. _Like Snape._

Only the people in this room (and Moony) knew about Snape. The very existence of their spy was a closely guarded secret. And as much as Sirius disliked Snape he wasn't about to put his life in danger. Not since that one time back in school.

Besides, Snape was _important_ to the Order in a way that Sirius could never match.

Sirius didn't have the full story, but as he understood it Snape had gone to Albus shortly before Voldemort's attempt on Lily's life. After Voldemort's defeat his information had led to the incarceration of several key Death Eaters, though several more got away on pleas of being under Imperius and some well placed Galleons. Now the spy kept them that one important step ahead of Voldemort.

Focusing back on the real world, Sirius noted that James was attempting to steer Lily into the kitchen. With any luck Kreacher would have actually done what he was told and left something edible on the table. _Damn house elf._

Snape's dry voice wretched Sirius back to the conversation. "As fascinating as this discussion is, I have other places to be. If there is nothing else?"

Albus opened his mouth to reply when a flash of yellow light appeared in the middle of the room.

Sirius let loose an exclamation and pulled out his wand. The flash was twisting and expanding in vortex of now multi-coloured light.

"Back away from it!" Moody called out unnecessarily. Sirius risked a glance around the room, noting that everyone was standing far away from the disturbance with their wands out.

After a moment it settled into a six foot tall and five foot wide swirl of chaotic magic. "What the hell is it?" Frank demanded.

"A rip," Dumbledore replied.

"A wha-" began James.

The magic flared a brilliant shade of white, temporarily blinding the occupants of the room and leaving several of them cursing profoundly.

It took Sirius a moment to realize that one of the people cursing hadn't been there before.

Where the vortex had been stood a young man sprouting enough profanities to make most seasoned Aurors blush.

"Watch your tongue, young man!" Molly Weasley snapped on some automatic instinct.

He stopped and stared at her incredulously for a second before his expression morphed into shocked disbelief.

Maybe an inch shorter than James the stranger had unruly black hair that just brushed his shoulders and bright green eyes that were half hidden by long bangs. _In his early twenties, no older than twenty-four,_ Sirius assessed. He was wearing muggle clothing, but the wand clutched tightly in his hand meant that the kid was definitely a wizard.

Sirius could practically _see_ the moment the kid got hold of his shock. His eyes narrowed, his face abruptly cleared of all expression and his posture shifted into something much more defensive. The grip on his wand was adjusted slightly. A light pulse of magic washed over Sirius, a trick he recognized from his own bag of Auror tricks. _Placing everyone in the room without having to turn around._

Due to his entrance place the kid was surrounded. A quick calculation told Sirius that the young man could see himself, Molly, Arthur, Moody and perhaps Snape if his peripheral vision was good.

"Drop the wand," Moody commanded.

"No bloody way am I giving up my only defence." The light tenor was deceptively calm.

"You're surrounded, boy," Moody replied. "You don't have a choice."

"What is your name, young man?" Albus asked abruptly, having worked his way around into the stranger's vision.

Recognition and something less definable flashed through those green eyes. "Harry," he replied shortly. "You're Albus Dumbledore."

"I am," Dumbledore said, even though it hadn't been a question.

"Prove it."

Sirius nearly laughed at the demand. Who asked for _proof_ of Albus Dumbledore's identity? And how would this kid even know the difference?

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully, "I admit that I am not entirely sure how to do so. Much of what you would know is public information."

'Harry' seemed to consider this. "You have a brother. What's his name?"

Sirius was reluctantly impressed. Not too many people knew that.

"Aberforth," Albus responded, curiosity twinkling in his eyes.

Harry nodded sharply. "And your sister?"

_Sister?_ _What sister?_ Sirius caught the outright shock on Dumbledore's face a second before the old man schooled his features.

"Ariana," came the soft reply.

The change was almost as instantaneous as the last. Harry flipped his wand over and offered it, handle first, to Dumbledore. "Sorry," he muttered as Albus took the wand. "Had to be sure."

"Quite alright, young man. Caution is admirable. Though I would be fascinated to hear just how you know so much about my family."

"I'm more interested in where I am." Something shifted in Harry's expression. "Or maybe _when_ I am. That's possible too."

"It's July 31st, 2002," Sirius provided.

Harry stared at him for a moment before a grimace crossed his face. "Well, that puts paid to the time travel theory. And this is still Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, so I haven't moved locations exactly."

No one had anything to say to that, especially since Harry mostly appeared to be talking to himself. Green eyes did a sweep of the room, taking in the half lowered wands (and the not-at-all lowed wand in Moody's case) and suspicious expressions.

"Mind if I take a seat?" Harry asked, his question directed at Moody.

It was Albus who replied. "Go right ahead, Harry, was it?"

"There a last name to go with that?" Moody questioned when Harry had taken a corner seat. Sirius noted that he'd chosen a place where he could see everyone. And that despite his tone, this kid was tense as hell.

"Not that I'm up to sharing just yet."

Moody snorted, a half-grin on his face. "Finally meet someone who practices proper vigilance and it turns out it's someone we need information on."

Harry actually smiled at this. "Learned from the best, sir."

_It's official. This kid is beyond strange._

Not that he was a kid, really. But he was young enough that Sirius couldn't quite stop thinking of him as such.

"How old are you?" The soft question was Lily's.

Again, that twenty-yard stare. Like he wasn't convinced they were really there. "Twenty-two," he murmured finally.

"Perhaps some introductions are due?" Dumbledore said, waving for everyone to put away their wands. Only Minerva, Arthur and Molly actually complied.

"It might be prudent to check for the Dark Mark first, Albus," Snape reasoned smoothly.

Harry's stare shot to Snape with that remark. "_You_ think I'm a Death Eater, sir?" There was a rich irony in his tone which caused Snape to raise his eyebrows. Harry shook his head slightly, dark humour lighting his eyes. With a casual air so pronounced that it had to be fake he rolled up his sleeves.

"At least you aren't an official Death Eater," Moody offered. "No magic in the world can hide a Dark Mark."

"Not that it means much," James said, unconvinced. "Plenty of You-Know-Who's followers don't carry the mark."

"Wait, you mean that Voldemort is _alive_?" Harry demanded harshly, ignoring the way people twitched at the name.

"He's been back for a year, kiddo," Frank said.

It was Sirius' turn to stare. _What rock has this kid been living under? And what twenty-two year old is willing to say that name?_

"He's been dead for four years!" Harry snapped. "I was _there_."

Silence met that statement. Sirius exchanged an uncertain look with James and entertained the thought that maybe their unexpected guest wasn't quite right in the head.

"Dead, you say?" Apparently Dumbledore had other thoughts. "Harry, this might be a bit presumptuous, but could you tell me the names of the people here?"

Harry looked at him like he had three heads. "The paranoid one is Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody. The snarky git over there is Professor Snape." Ignoring Snape's indignant start, he waved a hand in the direction of the Longbottoms. "I'm pretty sure those two are Frank and Alice Longbottom, but the last time I saw them they were in St. Mungo's, so I'm not really sure. Professor McGonagall is the one giving me the evil eye."

Harry's gaze shifted to the Weasley's and softened slightly. "You're Arthur and Molly Weasley." He stopped there, appearing reluctant to go on.

"And the other three?" Dumbledore prompted.

"James and Lily Potter." Harry stated, something almost wistful in his tone.

Sirius nearly jumped when blazing green eyes met his own. There was emotion there, too much to even begin comprehending.

"And Sirius Black."

Moody remained unmoved. "So he knows who we are. None of us are exactly low profile -"

"Where's Remus?" Harry asked, interrupting whatever train of thought Moody had. "Given this grouping you'd figure he'd be here."

Minerva got over her shock first. "Mr. Lupin was unavailable, Mr- Harry. Albus, what are you thinking?"

"I believe Harry here is from another dimension."

Harry stood up and paced for a moment before laughing. "Well, that's one explanation."

"You're taking this rather calmly," Alice noted, worry crinkling at the edges of her eyes.

"Calm?" Harry replied. "No, I'm not calm. I'm _hallucinating._ I'm drunk or suffering from some dark spell or potion. Hell, maybe I'm dead. Or maybe my sanity has finally snapped like Malfoy always said it would." There was a rising note of hysteria in his voice. "I'm having a chat about alternate dimensions with a bunch of dead people! So, no. I'm not bloody _calm_!"

Some of the loose objects in the room began lifting into the air.

Sirius moved back a step, fighting the absurd urge to run like hell. He had the sinking feeling that Harry, wherever he came from, was bloody dangerous.

"Voldemort is alive, you say? Great! Scenario right out of my freaking nightmares!"

"Harry," Albus said urgently, as Harry's hair and clothing began whipping around in an invisible wind. "You need to regain control."

Sirius watch in horrified fascination as the magic around Harry became visible in a flickering aura of colours. _He'll blow us all sky high._

Moody was apparently thinking the same thing. "_Stupify!_" he cried desperately.

Harry collapsed, his magic cutting off.

Sirius winced at the bang of formerly floating objects hitting the floor and furniture.

"Well," Albus said. "That could have gone better."


	2. Different universe Same Moody

_Story Note: This is alternate universe twice over. Not only does it take place in an AU but Harry is also from an AU. This is largely because I haven't read Half Blood Prince or Deathly Hallows in ages and couldn't make Harry cannon if I tried. So rather than a half assed attempt at a cannon Harry I'm just going to go all out and do whatever I want with Harry's background. Major events from Order of the Phoenix or earlier will probably still be valid. Past that I make no promises._

_Author's Note: Please note the edit I did on Harry's comment on how long Voldemort has been dead. I originally had five years written, it should have been four. The change has been made to the previous chapter and is reflected here._

_Sorry that this is a bit on the shorter side. Adding length to my writing is something I'm still working on.  
_

*****

**Chapter Two:** Different universe. Same Moody.

There was an unconscious dimensional traveler spread out on Sirius' sofa. Sirius shook his head. Sometimes life as a wizard was just too weird. Even for a pureblood.

Eyeing the people around him, Sirius wondered if any of them ever felt like life was one big prank gone terribly wrong. Merlin knew it was how he was feeling at the moment. Though, come to think of it, James was looking kind of gob-smacked, so maybe Sirius wasn't the only one.

Their group was now missing quite a few people. Frank and Alice were off to the Ministry to make some quiet inquiries and potentially to do damage control. The Order really didn't need a bunch of Unspeakables poking around their headquarters just because some kid from another universe decided to show up there. Minerva, meanwhile, had been shipped off to the Hogwarts library with instructions to find anything and everything that might be vaguely useful.

Snape had simply left in the chaos that followed Harry's loss of consciousness, declaring that he had better things to worry about. Sirius was envious. He wished _he_ could just pick up and leave. But the damnable house was his and the things that happened in it were Sirius' business by default.

Molly and Arthur had gone far more reluctantly, but they had a family dinner to attend and Albus had waved off their offers to stay with his usual lack of concern.

That left himself, James, Lily, Albus and Mad-Eye Moody to 'deal with the situation.' However they were supposed to do that.

Their current method of dealing was hanging around in uncomfortable silence while Moody searched Harry's pockets. So far he'd found a used tissue, some muggle money and a bit of lint. The ex-Auror looked affronted at the lack of anything incriminating, though it might have been Dumbledore's blatant refusal to allow him to do anything more that had him looking so sour.

Albus was examining Harry's wand. Personally Sirius thought he looked far too intrigued. It didn't bode well when Albus got that particular expression on his face. It generally meant that something important was going on that the Headmaster hadn't quite worked out yet, which then translated into trouble for just about everyone else.

"He looks like James," Lily inserted into the silence.

Sirius did a double-take. It had been far too hectic for him to notice before, but the kid bore a definite resemblance to the infamous Prongs. The length of his hair threw off the look a bit, but he had that trademark uncontrollable black mop that Potter males all seemed to have and the lean muscled build to go with it.

"A relative of … of the other James? Someone who doesn't exist here, or a distant relation I haven't met?" James wondered out loud.

"Definitely some Potter blood in him somewhere," Moody commented gruffly. "Not too close a relation though or he would have slipped."

Albus was twinkling madly. Sirius bit back a groan, knowing full well Dumbledore had figured out something that he didn't plan on sharing.

"He knows us," Sirius said. "And I don't mean our names. He knows _us_, or at least some of us."

"He said he was talking to dead people," Lily murmured. "If he knows – knew the other versions of us then this would be a terrible thing for him to go through. No wonder he was so distressed."

James shifted uncomfortably, "Figure some of us died fighting Voldemort in his dimension?"

"Likely," Moody answered. "Kid also mentioned the Longbottoms being in St. Mungo's."

"Now _that's_ a pleasant thought," Sirius grumbled.

"His version of You-Know-Who has been dead for four years," Moody said. "Wonder if he knows how the bastard kicked it."

"Alastor!" Lily objected. "He's hardly going to want to _talk_ about it."

Moody grunted. "If he has anything useful in that head of his we need to know it, Potter."

"Moody has a point, Lily," James said. "I don't like it any more than you do, but-"

"No one will be interrogating the young man," Albus declared suddenly. "Not unless it is absolutely necessary."

"Albus," Moody growled.

Dumbledore simply gazed at the ex-Auror over his spectacles. "I'm sure that given sufficient time and proper encouragement young Harry here will share any truly pertinent information of his own accord."

"You'd trust a perfect stranger like that? Some brat who's not even from our own dimension?" Moody demanded.

Albus raised an eyebrow. "Trust him? No, not entirely. Which is why Harry shall be confined to Grimmauld Place, with at least two Order members in attendance at a time."

"He ought to have _guards_," Moody grumbled. "That display of power earlier –"

"Was due to the strain of a sudden shift of reality. A perfectly understandable reaction in the circumstances." Blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

"You want to keep him here?" Sirius questioned. "This place is barely fit for Order meetings; it's not set up for anyone to actually live in. And that's not even getting into the security issues."

Dumbledore waved off his concerns. "It is a simple enough matter to make the house habitable."

"Are two Order members going to be enough?" James asked. "We don't know what he's capable of. Or who he might contact."

"There are admittedly some precautions that will need to be taken," Albus conceded. "But with those in place two Order members shall likely prove more than sufficient."

"Who will be staying here, Albus?" Lily said.

"As long as you don't stick me with Peter Pettigrew it doesn't matter," muttered a weary voice.

Sirius jumped and automatically grabbed for his wand.

Harry was still splayed across the sofa, but his eyes were open and tracking. A light smirk was on his face – amusement at their surprise – but there was nothing to indicate what he was thinking.

"I hit you with enough power to knock a troll for a loop!" Moody exclaimed, wand at ready.

"Which is why you don't see me trying to sit up," Harry replied dryly.

Slowly Sirius returned his wand back to its holster, mind reeling. He'd been on the receiving end of Moody's stunning spell before. No one woke up that quickly. _Maybe the magic he was channelling protected him a bit._ It was a good explanation, but Sirius couldn't quite make himself buy it.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked.

Harry stared blankly at her for a moment before visibly shaking himself. "Yeah. Sorry about the freak out."

Lily smiled. "No apologies necessary."

"What do you have against Peter?" James demanded, focusing on what Harry had first said.

"So the rat _is_ alive here, too bad," Harry mumbled to himself.

James' face grew dark. "Answer the question."

"He caused the death of my parents," Harry explained in a frigid voice. "If you value his life, you'll keep him away from me."

A shiver ran down Sirius' spine.

"Anyone else we should keep you away from?" Moody's question was ripe with sarcasm, but Harry appeared to seriously consider it for a moment.

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"I doubt that will be a problem as she is currently residing in Azkaban," Dumbledore said mildly.

"Ah. Voldemort hasn't staged a breakout for his precious Death Eaters yet." Harry perfectly matched Dumbledore's tone.

Moody pounced at the chance for information. "He did that in your world?"

"Yes," Harry said flatly.

Moody opened his mouth to demand more but stilled at the warning look shot at him by Albus.

Sirius took his first really good look at Harry. He'd noticed the kid's physical features before, but now he caught the strain in his shoulders and the slightly pinched look on his face. The Auror in him noted the black bags under his eyes and the slightly too thin frame underneath his clothing. Despite lying down Harry's entire frame was tense, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

If he'd seen that look on someone a bit younger than Harry he'd have sent someone to investigate his home life. As it was, he found himself plotting the best way to subtly get the kid under Poppy's care. He could definitely use a few nutritional potions, grown adult or not.

There was something familiar about the green eyes that tracked everyone in the room. A frown tugged at the corners of Sirius' mouth. He couldn't quite put his fingers on it. Harry's long bangs got in the way of a clear look, and the churning emotions that Sirius could see but not make sense of made it impossible to really concentrate.

Caught up in his musings, Sirius didn't stop to think about his actions when Harry moved to sit up. He automatically reached out to stabilize the young man, one hand gripping his forearm in an effort to pull him up.

His gaze flicked over Harry's hand then shuttered to a stop and stayed there. For a moment Sirius forgot to breathe.

Scarred into the back of Harry's hand were the words _I must not tell lies_.

"Padfoot?" James said uncertainly.

Sirius released his grip with an almost convulsive motion. "Sorry," he murmured, avoiding Harry's gaze.

The young man had gone completely stiff, but he nodded slightly at the apology.

Albus cleared his throat. "Harry, I am afraid that I am going to have to cast some spells on you, and I might require a vow as well."

"What will the spells do?"

"Keep you from venturing outside of the wards without my explicit permission. Prevent you from sharing any sensitive information you may overhear during your stay."

"Doesn't keep him from hurting people _inside_ the wards," Moody pointed out.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Different universe. Same Moody."

A deep breath and a faint hint of power was the only warning they got. "_I swear on my magic that though neither action nor inaction will I purposefully cause harm to come to any who stands against Lord Voldemort._"

Magic swirled around him for a moment before settling.

Lily sucked in an amazed breath, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "That was an Unbreakable Vow. You didn't prepare or say or do any of the things you're supposed to, but you still managed an Unbreakable Vow. I never realized that was possible!"

Harry laughed. It was a good sound, boisterous and pleased. "Unbreakable Vows are all about intent, M- Mrs. Potter. The rest is just to keep wizards from making them by accident."

"Will that do, Alastor?" Albus inquired, a twitching smile on his face.

"Hmph. I suppose so," Moody allowed.

"I'm afraid that despite your rather impressive vow I must still do some casting on you, Harry." For once Dumbledore looked genuinely apologetic.

Harry shrugged. "Cast away."


	3. Belligerent vernacular

_Author's Notes: A couple of you commented on pairings for this fic, asking for various pairings or to avoid other ones. To be honest I hadn't thought about it._

_This story isn't really about that kind of pairing. It's not a ship or a love story. It's just a tale about Sirius and Harry and the ways in which they connect even when they don't really know each other. It's about seeing a character through the eyes of another and exploring the nature of both. It is, in fact, very similar to "Phantom's Sketchbook" (another story of mine) in that it's about turning characters into people. And maybe Harry and Sirius are/will be very different from their book versions, but as an author I'm hoping to capture some of what makes them quintessentially __**them**__ without pandering to overdone traits that make them more one-dimensional then real. And pairings may or may not be part of that. Unlike Danny and Sam, Harry's relationship with Ginny is not important to who Harry is. But neither is his relationship with Luna. Hermione is closer, but let's be honest, Hermione helps define who Harry is as a friend, not as a lover or even a potential romantic interest. So maybe I'll pair Harry with someone, or maybe I won't, but if I do I'll pair him with whoever creates the best dynamics for seeing __**Harry**__, no matter who that person is. And yes, I really do mean that. I don't care if they are male, female or a goblin (wait, I lie, I would never pair Harry with a goblin, though Harry/Griphook would be comedic gold. Anybody out there bat shit crazy enough to write that for me?). If you've read some of my other work, you know I don't shy away from slash pairings, but I don't write them exclusively either. It's a coin toss. And that assumes I pair him up at all._

_Anyway, I'm going to go work on "Magical Chaos Theory" now that you've all been bored to tears by the humongous author's note. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated._

_PS: Maybe I'll pair Harry with Neville just to watch you all squirm. Mwahahaha…_

*****

**Chapter Three:** Belligerent vernacular.

Sirius well and truly hated this house. He blamed most of his hate on the portrait in the front hall. Or, to be more precise, on the woman in the portrait. Walburga Black was no one's idea of a good mother, unless that person was a Death Eater, but her death had left a small regret filled hole in Sirius' heart.

Up until he found out about the portrait.

After that he cursed the fact that the bloody woman couldn't let well enough alone even in death. Sometimes he was a step away from burning _her_ off the family tree, except that the blasted thing probably wouldn't let him. She'd married "properly" after all (never mind that she'd married her second cousin) and the magic inherent in the tapestry was as bigoted as most of the family.

James joked that Sirius' favourite pastime was making up inventive ways to rid the world of Walburga Black's portrait. Sirius had doubts about whether that should be considered a joke.

Maybe he'd try some of the more ridiculous ideas now that he was once again living at Grimmauld Place.

Sirius could have cheerfully cursed Dumbledore into oblivion when he 'suggested' that Sirius use his hard earned vacation time to watch over their new guest. And since said guest was limited to the home of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black…

Vengeance was going to be public, horrifying and truly epic in proportions. It was also going to involve a lot of pink and quite possibly a Mohawk on the part of Hogwarts' Headmaster. Too bad the old codger generally liked the Marauder's pranks, even the ones at his expense. _Maybe I can charm McGonagall into making some suggestions. Or into giving us access to his lemon drops._

They had all day to plan it. James had taken the day off to join him in 'Harry guarding,' and Remus was due back from his trip any minute now. Sirius would have loved to bring Peter in on it too, but Albus had indicated that they should take Harry seriously on the topic of Peter until they could get a gauge on his behaviour. At least the Unbreakable Vow Harry had taken would prevent him from doing anything too bad.

Or so they hoped.

Anyway, the point was that Sirius was now living full time in a place he had sworn to never return to back at the tender age of sixteen. He'd already broken that promise by opening the house up as the Order of the Phoenix HQ, but actually _living_ there was a step beyond what Sirius would ever be ready for.

It has to be said that Sirius was perhaps not in the best of moods at this point. Being woken up by the screaming portrait of his thankfully deceased mother didn't help his situation any.

Five minutes after jumping out of bed, he was still trying to shut the banshee up.

"BLOOD TRAITORS! FILTHY MUDBLOOD LOVING STAINS ON HUMANITY!"

Sirius gave James a Look. If they hadn't been friends for so long he would have hexed him for waking up the old bat. He might hex him still.

James shrugged and gave him a crooked half smile. 'Not my fault' he mouthed.

Sirius rolled his eyes. Of course it was his fault.

"PETULANT SLIME! WRETCHED VERMIN!"

"SHUT UP!" Sirius screamed back, even as James struggled to close the drapery that normally covered the horrid thing.

"INSOLENT CUR!"

"Please, Madame. There is no need for such vulgarity."

The calm voice was so unexpected that it caused both Sirius and the screaming Walburga to quiet instantly. Sirius turned on his heel, wondering who had invaded his home, only to find Harry standing all of five feet away.

James was gaping like a fish, and Sirius couldn't blame him at all. Harry was resplendent in fine wizarding robes, his whole being exuding confidence. Despite bearing no physical resemblance to the Malfoy's, Sirius thought Harry looked disturbingly like the Malfoy heir in that moment. It was such a complete contrast with yesterday's casual muggle attire and defensive attitude that Sirius was left grasping for something to say.

Then Harry gave him just the barest of smiles and Sirius felt his whole body relax. He _knew_ that smile. It was the one James had whenever he was about to play a particularly brilliant joke.

"Who are you?" the harpy of a woman demanded.

Harry raised one eyebrow in a finely tuned imitation of Severus Snape. "I, madam, am Harold Evan James Black, current Lord of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. And I must say that I find your belligerent vernacular both distasteful and uninspired. Especially in such a highborn lady as yourself."

Walburga spluttered, her painted face flushed with colour. "You – You're that boy that the red haired traitors were gossiping about last night. Woke me up as they passed by, yammering about inter-dimensional travel."

Harry inclined his head. "Indeed. And you are Lady Walburga Black. I have heard much of you, madam."

If possible the flush on her face grew brighter. "Well. _Well._ You, at least, seem like a proper young man. A fitting Lord, if a bit young." There was a speculative gleam in her eyes. "It must have been frightful, landing here and finding these … people… in your home. You, know, of course, what they are."

"I know _exactly_ who I am dealing with, Madam. . . I assume your vitriol here today was caused by only the greatest of duress, as that is the only befitting situation for a Slytherin to so far lose their composure."

If Sirius had died right there and then he would have been satisfied with the look of mortification on the face of his mother's portrait. He caught James' eye, both of them struggling not to choke with laughter.

Harry ignored them entirely. "Would you like for me to close your draperies, madam? Your rest has been interrupted quite enough already."

"Thank you, my lord," she replied, dipping into a clumsy curtsey.

Harry closed the drapes with a decisive snap. Gesturing for them to keep quiet he led the way to the kitchen.

As soon as the door was closed behind them, Harry collapsed in a fit of laughter. "Oh, dear sweet Merlin, did you _see_ her? I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her skull."

The corner of James' lip twitched and soon all three of them were laughing.

It took a bit, but five minutes later Sirius was able to ask questions. "Where in the world did you learn to act like that?"

"And what do we have to pay you to do it in front of Snape?" James added. Though they no longer bullied their former classmate it was an unspoken rule amongst the Marauders that Severus Snape was in dire need of a good laugh and it was their mission to help him get one.

"Best not do that in front of the Professor," Harry replied jovially. "The posturing is Draco Malfoy, but the language is all Snape. He'd have me cleaning cauldrons for days."

Sirius shook his head and never noticed that Harry hadn't answered the first question.

"What did you do to your clothing?" James wanted to know.

"Why, James Potter, you of all people ought to recognize a bit of transfiguration when you see it." Harry waved his wand and his clothing changed back to its former appearance. Giving the kid back his wand had caused a bit of trouble with Moody last night, but even he had to admit that with the vow and the spells he was under Harry wasn't about to cause any trouble.

"We're going to have to do something about your clothing, kiddo." Sirius informed him. "You'll definitely need more than one outfit."

Harry grimaced, though Sirius had no idea what at. "And how are we supposed to do that? Not only do I not have any money, but I'm not allowed to leave the house, remember?"

James waved off the practicalities. "I'm sure Lily and Molly would be more than happy to arrange everything if you tell them what size you wear. And the Potter accounts can pick up the tab, seeing as you're practically family and all."

It was an open gambit and sure enough it got a reaction. Just not the one they'd been hoping for.

Harry shut down faster than Snape on a bad day. "And what makes you say that?"

James hesitated, his gaze flickering nervously to Sirius'. "Well, uh."

Sirius took pity on his friend. "What James here is trying to say is that you look like a Potter. And you know all of us, so it seemed like a fair assumption."

The stretching silence was bad for Sirius' nerves. He'd never figured out what to do with silence. Yelling, crying, and fighting were all within his ability to cope with, but silence made him twitchy and uncertain.

"_Are_ we related? Or was that stuff about being Harold Evan James Black actually true?" James' chuckle sounded forced.

"My parents were not cruel enough to name me Harold," Harry allowed, stress evident everywhere but his voice. "The part about being Lord Black is true, much as I wish it wasn't."

Sirius finally found his Gryffindor courage. "Ugh. How'd you get stuck with that job?"

"The ministry had to do something with the estate. I was the only viable option at the time, seeing as the other potential heir was in Azkaban for being a Death Eater."

Sirius kept himself from asking. For once, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know.

"A Potter and a Black?" James said wonderingly, a speculative look on his face. Sirius just _knew_ James was working his way through their respective family trees, trying to figure out where Harry fit.

"Of a sort."

"Harry Potter-Black it is then," James declared, looking indignant at Harry's snort. "What? If you aren't giving us your last name, we can definitely make one up for you."

"Potter-Black," Sirius tried out the sound of it. "Would that make him Blotter or Plack?"

"Definitely Plack, since Potter comes first," James replied.

A crack of laughter escaped Harry. Sirius grinned at James. Mission accomplished.

"You two are _adults_?" Harry asked incredulously.

James looked horrified. "Us? Adults?"

"Never!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Just be careful not to let Lily find out," inserted a dry voice from the doorway. "I think you've almost convinced her that you've grown up."

Sirius couldn't help the grin that spread onto his face. "Moony! How did things go?"

Remus Lupin gave him a tired smile. "They went."

"That great, huh?" Sirius winced. Remus had been off speaking to the werewolves about the war effort. A response like the one Remus had just given meant that he hadn't gotten anywhere with them. On the bright side it probably also meant that Voldemort wasn't getting anywhere with them either.

"Moony, meet Plack," James gestured towards Harry. "He's from another dimension."

Remus, to his credit, didn't even blink. "I'm Remus Lupin, good to meet you. Are you actually from another dimension or are these two taking the mick out of me?"

Harry smiled and shook his hand. "I'm Harry. And yeah, I'm actually from another dimension. Got here last night."

"And you have a nick-name already?" Remus questioned in an impressed tone.

"Said something I shouldn't have," Harry explained.

"Ah," Remus nodded his comprehension. "By the way, if you want anything resembling maturity from these two you'll have to catch them separately. They're useless together."

"Hey!" Sirius objected.

"So I noticed," Harry said.

Sirius watched Remus taking stock of the newcomer with some curiosity. Moony's opinions had always been useful, and he wanted to know what his friend was thinking.

Harry was carefully ignoring Remus' assessment. "Are you joining us for breakfast, Remus?"

"Don't think so," Remus replied. "If I'm going to make the meeting tonight I have some things I need to do. I was just letting these two know I'm alive."

"Lily tell you where we where?" James asked. Remus nodded.

Sirius, meanwhile, was becoming concerned. Harry had gone white at the mention of an Order meeting. "You alright there, Harry?"

"A _full_ Order meeting? Here?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Remus confirmed, looking as worried as Sirius felt. "About you, if I had to guess… is something wrong?"

Harry shook his head, his gaze far away. "No, nothing."

The three Marauder's exchanged looks.

Something was definitely wrong.


	4. Something wrong with Hufflepuff?

_Author's Notes: Hmm. About 200 words short of goal. Oh well._

_So Sirius spends some time as Padfoot in this chapter, and let me tell you that it was bloody hard to write. If I wrote anything that goes terribly against how dogs actually function I apologize, I wasn't up for the kind of thorough research a proper job required. Besides, anything too out of wack can be blamed on Sirius' human side._

_Just a quick reminder that this is double-au, details from Harry's sixth and seventh years are my prerogative._

_Okay, I'm seriously going to go work on Magical Chaos Theory this time. Really I am…_

*****

**Chapter Four:** Something wrong with Hufflepuff?

The light, playful mood Harry had started the morning with had crashed and burned with the mention of an Order meeting. And despite the concentrated antics of Padfoot and Prongs it had yet to reassert itself. Sirius wasn't sure why he cared. But there was something downright disturbing about Harry's dark countenance and Sirius desperately wanted it gone.

For Sirius and James the day had passed in a flurry of cleaning, plotting and attempting to make Harry laugh. The young man had proved stubbornly resistant to their attempts, and, in fact, had gone much of the day without speaking.

At least he had joined their cleaning attempts. Sirius could only assume that not locking himself away in a bedroom was a positive sign.

Harry's presence on their cleaning crew turned out to be one of the best things that could have happened. Neither Sirius nor James were more than basically competent in household maintenance, but Harry was a bloody miracle worker. He also seemed to know where all the worst pitfalls of Grimmauld Place were and had prevented several accidents.

When Sirius had questioned him on it, Harry had shrugged and replied that he'd helped clean the place out before.

Lunch had been interesting. Harry had made a casual inquiry about Kreacher's whereabouts – his only unnecessary words of the day – and was met a string of curses from Sirius. It had been James who'd explained that the house elf was restricted to his bedroom for everything but meeting his basic needs.

Harry had raised an eyebrow but hadn't asked. And because he didn't ask, Sirius had felt obliged to explain that the little bugger had tried to run off to both Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange several times in the last year. "Can't very well let the blighter go, he knows too much."

The shadow that had passed across Harry's face at that definitely had a story behind it. Maybe Sirius would get up the guts to ask about it sometime.

The end result had been James and Sirius discovering that Harry was an excellent cook on top of being top notch at cleaning. Sirius had promptly asked Harry to marry him. It was the closest they got to seeing him smile again all day.

Some time around four Lily and Molly had shown up with several armloads of clothing for Harry to try on, leaving James and Sirius to their plotting.

They were still debating the merits of attacking Dumbledore's sock collection when Molly and Lily came downstairs. Molly was shaking slightly and Lily had tears running down her face.

"Lily! What's wrong?" James rushed over to his wife and pulled her into a hug.

Sirius gently guided the Weasley matriarch over to one of the kitchen chairs.

"We didn't _mean_ to, he'd asked us not to look while he was changing, but there were a few shirts that we'd missed, and we just opened the door without thinking and we _saw_ and oh dear god, that poor boy…" Lily burst into renewed tears.

James and Sirius shared a look of baffled incomprehension. James chuckled weakly. "I'm afraid you have to expand on that, love. Didn't quite follow you."

"She's talking about Harry," Molly murmured softly. "His back. There's –" she shuddered "– this criss-cross of scars on his back. They are … they are terrible…"

"He shut the door on us," Lily whispered. "He just – he looked …"

"Like a corpse," Molly finished.

Sirius was moving before he processed the thought. James would take care of the girls, someone needed to check on Harry.

He took the stairs two at a time, nearly skidding to a halt in front of the second floor bedroom that Harry had claimed. Here he paused, wondering what in the hell he was supposed to do next. _I know I only met you last night, but why don't you poor out your soul to me over something that's none of my business so we can all just feel better already…_Yeah. Right.

Sirius ran a shaky hand through his hair, pacing in a small circle in front of Harry's door. He'd known the kid – young man – all of a day, and he felt like a part of himself was invested in his happiness. This was crazy.

It occurred to him that Harry probably didn't even _want_ company. Sirius groaned slightly, debating whether or not he should just head back downstairs and mind his own bloody business.

A small click caused Sirius to pause mid-step. He held his breath and waited for a moment, but the door didn't open. _Did he just lock or unlock the door?_

Sirius took a calming breath and reached for the part of his magic that was all dog. The transformation was quick and comfortingly familiar. As Padfoot his complex emotions unraveled and became clear. Harry was _pack_ and Sirius was his pack-leader and Harry needed help.

Human-Sirius would have to think long and hard about that later.

Sirius pushed against the door with his nose, pleased when it opened for him. Not stopping to think about what might happen he walked the rest of the way in.

Harry was curled up in a corner, his back pressed against a wall. Sirius took in all the signals his senses were giving him, relying on his dog brain to interpret them. Harry was insecure, and not quite _balanced_ in some way. Sirius shook his head in a very human gesture. _More things to think about._

Moving closer, Sirius let out a purposeful whine. Harry's head shot up, his gaze focusing on the dog in front of him. Sirius went completely still.

"Padfoot." Harry's voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to dispel Sirius' worry that Harry wouldn't know him.

Sirius let dog instincts win out over human ones. Instead of invading Harry's space and offering physical comfort, Sirius turned around and stood guard.

It was a good ten minutes before Sirius sensed Harry relaxing even a little. And it was another five before the young man moved out of his corner.

Sirius turned his head as Harry came up beside him. Harry reached down and scratched his ear. "Thanks, Sirius," he murmured. Sirius woofed and trailed Harry out the door.

They found James, Lily and Molly in the sitting room nursing cups of tea.

Sirius nudged Harry in the back of the leg when the young man paused in the doorway. He ignored the stare he knew James would be giving him for being in animagus form and forcefully directed Harry to the overstuffed chair that was Sirius' favorite. Abandoning his earlier method of non-invasiveness, he jumped up on Harry was soon as the young man was seated.

He wasn't about to give up his favorite chair entirely.

"Mutt," Harry muttered. Sirius ignored him.

Besides, Harry was petting him and didn't that just make him a complete hypocrite.

Conversation was slow and awkward at first but eventually there was smooth flow of words in the air. Harry wasn't really adding anything to it, but he was listening and was still petting Padfoot in an idle manner.

It wasn't until the subject moved to Quidditch – and how James managed that with only Lily and Molly to speak to was beyond Sirius – that Harry actually starting taking part.

"The Wronski Feint is only really usable by professional seekers, like Victor Krum," James said to Lily. "Anybody else would get themselves killed."

"And what would a Chaser know about it?" Harry countered hotly, the first words he'd added to conversation.

Three surprised sets of human eyes and one set of dog eyes turned towards Harry. "It can be done, even by an amateur. It's not easy, mind you, but –"

"You play?" Lily asked.

"Seeker," Harry confirmed. "And I'm telling you it can be done."

James was frowning slightly. "In an amateur game? _Both_ Seekers would end up flattened on the pitch. No good Captain would ever let their Seeker try it."

Harry snorted. "Good thing I was captain at the time then. Look, D- James. I've _done_ it. Last match against Slytherin in my sixth year. Malfoy ended up breaking both his arms and snapping his broom in half. The only bruises I ended up with where from dodging hexes after the fact."

Molly made a noise in the back of her throat. Sirius wondered how the woman had ever survived five out of her seven children playing the sport.

James was staring open-mouthed at Harry. "You pulled a Wronski Feint in a _school_ match? On what broom?"

"A Firebolt. Si…" Harry trailed off, shaking his head slightly. "Malfoy was on a Nimbus 2001. I admit that I had the better broom, but a 2001 is no slacker broom"

"What house were you in?" Lily asked, interrupting what was sure to be a long diatribe on James' part. "Not Slytherin, obviously."

"Hufflepuff," Harry stated.

They all stared at him.

"What?" he asked indignantly. "Something wrong with Hufflepuff?"

Molly was the first one to get her equilibrium back. "Of course not, dear. It's just a little bit of a surprise is all."

"A wonderful house," Lily added. "Loyalty and dedication are definitely better traits than some."

"Hufflepuff?" James repeated.

Lying on top of Harry as he was, Sirius was the first one to clue in when Harry started shaking with suppressed laughter. He looked up with what he hoped was a scolding expression. Given that he was a dog he probably didn't manage it.

Whatever his expression actually was, it was apparently extremely funny because Harry started to laugh.

Sirius felt a knot that had been in him since morning loosen.

"Gryffindor – I was in Gryffindor," Harry managed while catching his breath. "I think the 'Puffs would be pretty horrified by the thought of me in their house. Too much Gryffindor bravado."

Sirius yipped his approval of Harry's Gryffindor status. Not that there was anything wrong with Hufflepuff, really there wasn't, Nymphadora had been a Hufflepuff after all, but… seriously, it was _Hufflepuff_.

"So, fellow former Gryffindor Quidditch Captain -" James began.

Lily groaned. "Come on, Molly. Let's get supper started while the boys discuss their first love."


	5. Just like you aren’t my Sirius

_Author's Notes: Wow. I don't know whether to be flattered or nervous about the amount of attention this story is getting; 86 reviews, 36 C2s, 96 favourites lists, and 265 alerts is an awful lot to live up to. Please keep reading and reviewing though, because I like knowing my work is being enjoyed. The reviews are especially appreciated, even when they are critical. Don't be afraid to point out my errors! It's the only way I'll ever learn._

_If you want figure out the Latin you are welcome to use an online translator on each individual word. It's what I did._

*****

**Chapter Five:** Just like you aren't my Sirius

It was starting to get crowded. Sirius elbowed his way through the people in his sitting room, cursing the necessity of so many people in the same space.

The Order of the Phoenix was not a massive organization by any means, but with the addition of the younger generation what had been a small dedicated task force was now a 40+ person platoon. And while Grimmauld Place was definitely up to the task of containing that many people it really couldn't do so in one room.

Not that everyone could show up, but the room was definitely starting to feel a bit on the cramped side. Sirius was very glad for the air exchange and freshening charm that Lily had put up, or else the place would be completely unliveable.

Sirius passed Moody on his way to the stairs, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth at the ex-Auror's grumbling.

Moody glared at him. "What? _You_ think having everyone in the one space is smart? Might as well put a target on the house."

Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender and continued on his way without pointing out the Fidelius Charm. He wasn't in disagreement; charm or not this was dangerous, which is why this kind of meeting pretty much never happened. Why Dumbledore was making an exception now was a bit beyond Sirius.

He found Harry sitting on his bed. The kid – _Young man, he's twenty-two Sirius!_ - was completely lost in thought.

"Hey, Plack. Things are about to start, you coming?"

Harry jumped slightly and gave Sirius a wary smile. "Don't have much of a choice, do I?"

At some point Harry had showered and changed. "When did you get the chance to shower?" Sirius demanded, grumpy about not getting a similar opportunity.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Not all of us take hours to get clean."

Sirius gave him a playful swat, taking in Harry's muggle-style jeans and the simple black t-shirt with approval. "Clothes look good. Lily and Molly did well."

"Yeah, they did," Harry replied, picking at the edge of his shirt. "Figured the t-shirt for a good job. I'm thinking most people are going to want a look at my arm."

Sirius, taken off guard and not knowing what to say to that, cleared his throat. "Right. Before we head down you might need to know a few things."

"Such as?" Harry said.

"Well, for one, not many people know about Snape. In fact, hardly anyone knows about him. You need to keep quiet on that."

Harry looked surprised. "Really? Guess he's only a regular spy here and not a double agent."

Sirius blinked. "Snape was playing both sides in your world?"

"Damn good at it too," Harry confirmed. "Voldemort was convinced he had a spy in the Order. Dumbledore fed a lot of misleading information through Snape."

Shoving that information away as something to think about and possibly suggest later, Sirius brought up the second thing Harry needed to know. "Peter is here."

Harry's face went completely blank. If Sirius had doubted Harry's feelings about his friend before, he didn't now. "Okay," Harry said slowly.

"James is running interference," Sirius supplied.

"Good."

The clipped response was not encouraging. Sirius beat down the instinct to yell at Harry for his attitude. "Look, Harry. I don't know what you've got against one of my best friends-"

"I told you before," Harry snarled. "My parents _died_ because of him. He -"

"You're in a different bloody universe," Sirius said, voice sharp. "Whatever your Peter did, this one is not the same person."

Harry took a deep breath. "No," he said quietly. "Just like you aren't my Sirius."

He wanted to ask then. Desperately wanted know what he – the other Sirius – was to Harry. Maybe it would explain some of the mix of emotions those green eyes assaulted him with.

Harry didn't give him a chance.

The abrupt change of demeanour was so complete it was like Harry was a different person. "Coming, Padfoot?" Harry asked brightly, brushing past him.

Sirius stared, stunned at the change. "Yeah," he replied, voice shaky. "Let's go." He wondered briefly if Harry had that weird muggle personality disorder Lily had described once. _Or else he's a very good actor._

He fingered his wand reflexively as they forced their way into a front spot in the sitting room. If Harry could change that fast…

But no, he was under an Unbreakable Vow plus whatever Dumbledore had put on him. Not to mention that almost the entire Order was here. Sirius released his wand, pushing aside paranoid thoughts worthy of Mad-Eye.

Sirius swept his gaze around the room, meeting curious glances with a shrug. A lot of people had gone quiet, looking back and forth between Harry and James on the other side of the room. Harry didn't look overly bothered.

Except maybe his breathing was just a little too calm and measured. And he wasn't really _looking_ at anyone; his eyes were fixed on a random spot on the wall.

Somehow that careful control made Sirius feel better. It made Harry human.

Dumbledore made his way to the front, smiling benignly at them all. "It appears our accommodations are a bit on the small side. Or perhaps we are the ones who are growing." This brought a few appreciative chuckles. "Hmm. A change of furniture may help the situation."

With a slight pop the furniture disappeared and was replaced with long benches that strongly resembled the ones at Hogwarts. Sirius was pretty sure they _were_ the ones from Hogwarts. He wondered if his furniture was sitting abandoned in the Great Hall.

People shuffled about for a bit, taking seats on the benches. Organized rows and a bit of squishing together made much more efficient use of the space and left only a few people standing. Sirius wondered how many were missing, but didn't bother to take a head count. He did, however, risk sending a suggestive grin at Remus who had found himself a spot next to Tonks.

"Are they together yet?" Harry whispered.

Sirius nearly cheered at the implication. "Nope. I take it I should kick Moony's ass into gear?"

"Definitely," Harry murmured, going quiet as Dumbledore gestured for the conversations to stop.

Despite the number of people pointedly directing their attention towards Harry it was nearly fifteen minutes (and several boring reports) later before Albus got to the point.

"I can see you are all impatient to hear about our guest," Albus intoned. "Harry here joined us rather unexpectedly last evening."

"You _could_ say that," Harry muttered under his breath.

"As best as we can work out, Harry comes from another universe entirely."

The wall of noise which met that announcement was deafening. Cries of "What?" and "Are you sure?" were repeated over hurried conversations. Somewhere behind them an excited witch was rambling about the multiverse, Tegmark's classifications and something called quantum mechanics. Whoever she was talking to didn't have much more of a clue than Sirius did, his answers were in single syllables.

Harry chuckled and leaned close to be heard. "I just gave Hermione something new to research."

Dumbledore was trying, without much success, to get everyone to calm down again. Sirius debated throwing out a mass Silencio. Harry had other ideas. The young man stood up, placed himself next to Dumbledore and glared at the assembly of witches and wizards. There he stayed in complete silence until every last person had gone uncomfortably quiet.

"Good to know that works on adults too," Harry said, relaxing his stance to lean against the wall.

Dumbledore shot him an amused look with his twinkling eyes. "Hogwarts could use someone with that particular talent."

Harry's careless shrug gave away nothing. "If you say so, Professor."

Sirius wondered if he'd ever understand this young man who'd so abruptly dropped into his life. Even if he'd only known him for a day Sirius was left with the definite feeling that figuring out Harry was going to be the cause of several miserable headaches.

Dumbledore appeared thoughtful. "I suppose the most important thing to mention is that Voldemort is defeated in Harry's universe."

Sirius expected another outbreak of noise. What actually followed was an expectant silence.

Harry snorted, "You make it sound like he was beaten in a fighting game. He's _dead_. Too bloody bad you can't say the same thing here."

"Are you sure?" someone – Sirius thought it was Neville Longbottom – called out. "I mean, he did that here. Died and came back."

Harry was nodding. "Yeah, he did that in my world too. Wandered around as a bodiless spirit for years. But I'm sure in this case. Definitely dead in the permanent sense."

"How?" Tonks demanded.

"_Anima letum ritus_," Harry explained, without really explaining anything at all. A few people who knew something about Latin and spell etymology shifted uncomfortably. The rest, like Sirius, were just confused.

"What is it?" The excited witch from earlier asked.

"Nothing you'll find in the Hogwarts Library," Harry replied flippantly.

Sirius frowned. Harry was avoiding meeting anyone's eyes, but he definitely knew this girl. Glancing at the row behind him, Sirius found himself looking at a bushy-haired girl about Harry's age. She was sitting with the Weasleys, her eyes sharply focused on Harry and looking like she desperately wanted to pelt him with questions. Sirius recognized her from previous meetings, but hadn't really met her. _What did Harry call her earlier? Hermione?_

"Even if you can find it, I wouldn't recommend trying it," Harry said.

"Why the hell not? If it can get rid of Voldemort I say we try it," Moody called out from the back.

Something dark entered Harry's expression. "It requires eight spirit energy focus points with a highly charged positive emotive connection to a ninth living focus. The living focus also has to be soul connected to the spell's target. The theory is monstrous, and in practice the conditions are almost impossible to meet. We were lucky, if you can call it that. Shouldn't have worked at all. Almost didn't."

"Did that actually make sense to anyone?" Sirius asked after a beat of silence.

A few weak laughs met his question. But even Dumbledore looked disturbed. The old wizard's eyes twinkled less than usual as he spoke. "I will be asking several of you to help work out what brought young Harry here. I am also looking for volunteers to spend some time here at Grimmauld Place over… oh, the next few weeks I suppose. You can sign up with Minerva before you leave if you are available. Does anyone have something to add to this evening's discussion?"

There was a pause while people looked at Harry, debating what they could safely ask. Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll take a few questions, but I reserve the right to not answer –" Hermione's hand shot up "– and I'm not answering anything from Hermione because we'll be here all night. You can drill me later, Hermione."

The atmosphere in the room relaxed as people laughed and shifted into more comfortable positions. Sirius unobtrusively got up and placed himself where he could see both Harry and the gathered Order members.

"That answers whether you know some of us," Tonks noted. "Are you an Order member?"

"Not officially," Harry answered. "I was underage at the time and there wasn't a point once everything was over."

"What's your blood-status?" Mundungus Fletcher yelled out.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Harry snapped back.

Mundungus shrugged. "Nothin' really. Curious is all."

Harry grumbled something under his breath before responding. "Half-blood, but I was raised by Muggles."

Now that was interesting. _How did a muggle raised, half-blood wizard end up being Lord of the House of Black?_ Sirius had no objection to it, in fact it made him gleeful just thinking of it, but it _was_ strange. Across the room James' face was scrunched up in a way that told Sirius that he was thinking about it too.

"I have a really important question," one of the Weasley boys said. "How are the Chudley Cannons doing in your world?"

Harry stared at him for a long moment then nearly doubled over in laughter. "Ron, it'd take more than an alternate universe for the Cannons to win anything."


	6. Help him

_Author's Notes: I find it interesting that so many people question why Harry's identity hasn't been figured out yet, but no one thinks to question why Sirius is so emotionally attached to him already. There are reasons for both, of course. It's just interesting to watch you guys pick up on one but not the other._

_Please be forgiving of any truly atrocious errors in this chapter. I wrote the first bit on no sleep and the rest while feeling miserable. Oh, and sorry for the short chapter. I'd have wrote more but I thought you guys might appreciate the quicker update._

*****

Chapter Six: Help him

He never would have heard the noise from his bedroom. But from his current position on the sitting room sofa the thump from the second floor was enough to jostle him from his half-asleep state.

Sirius rubbed his eyes. Sleep had been the last thing on his agenda when he'd finally sat down to work through everything that happened. But it had been late when the Order meeting had disbanded, and Sirius was not a man given to deep introspection. Brooding, certainly, but not introspection.

Little wonder then that he'd drifted off at some point.

Blearily he wondered what had woken him up (aside from the horrible crick in his neck). A second thump had him reaching for his wand. It was probably Remus or Harry making a late night trip to the toilet.

Probably.

The problem with probably was that between his job as an Auror and the developing hostilities with Snake Face and his Death Goons Sirius had developed a rather healthy dose of paranoia. Paranoid people may die of stress but they didn't tend to die of unexpected Avada Kedavra's to the head. The way Sirius figured it he was only crossing the line if people started comparing him to Mad-Eye. So far that hadn't happened.

A third unspecified noise made up Sirius' mind. He'd take the flack if it was just Remus. Fully awake now he cast a quick tempus – 4:06 am – and silently made his way up to the second floor.

Sure enough the door to the toilet was slightly ajar and light was spilling out into the hallway. Scoffing at himself, Sirius put away his wand. He turned to head up to his room when the sound of dry heaving stopped him cold. _What…?_

A trickle of worry made him turn back and open the door all the way.

"Harry?" Sirius' voice came out a choked whisper.

The young wizard was sprawled on the floor, bared chest leaning against white porcelain. His arms were gripping the toilet bowl in a tight mockery of a hug, like it was the only thing keeping him in his partially upright position. Unbelievably pale and trembling like a leaf Harry still managed to give him a weak smile. "Pa'foo…"

His voice was raw. Sirius had heard people sound like that before. Usually just after they'd spent a long time screaming.

Sirius took a cautious step forward. "Harry, what's wrong? What _happened_?"

"Nigh'mare." A few wrinkles creased his forehead. "_Was_ a nightmare. Turned inta' a vision. Not suppose' ta have em anymore. 'Cause he's _dead_, ya know?"

A shiver ran down Sirius' spine. This had to be some kind of mistake. There was _no way_ Harry was having visions of Voldemort. "Harry, I'm going to get Remus to come down, okay? So we can get more help." _Like Albus. And Madam Pomfrey._

Harry frowned before giving a jerky nod. "Don' matter. You're no' real anyway."

Sirius aborted his spell rather abruptly at that declaration and looked a little closer at Harry. He was shaking like crazy and there was a glazed, unfocused look in his eyes that was downright scary to see. _Definitely Madam Pomfrey._ With a renewed flurry of motion Sirius sent a short range messenger spell upstairs to where Remus was sleeping.

"I'm pretty sure I'm real. I think I'd know if I wasn't," he quipped in a light tone, hoping to break some of the insanity of the moment.

Harry was shaking his head. "You died. You an' Moony an' Dumbledore an' Ron an' Hermione. Even Snape went an' died on me, even tho' he _swore_. But you… you died _first_. And then headquarters was attacked and everything just – too many. There were too many faces tonight. I -"

The rush of understanding was like getting dumped in the Atlantic Ocean. Sirius stood in frozen horror as Harry rambled. Harry had stood in front of carbon copies of his deceased loved ones and had fielded questions about _Quidditch_ with a smile on his face.

He should have been having a mental breakdown.

But apparently he'd saved it until now.

"I'm going to get Albus and Poppy," a voice murmured from behind Sirius.

Sirius blinked in shock. "Moony? When did-"

Remus shook his head, an uncharacteristically grim expression on his face. "- About when he said you died first."

Harry had stopped talking and had dissolved into hysterical sobbing.

"Help him," Moony ordered before running off.

_Help him? How the hell am I supposed to do that?_ Sirius stared at Harry, desperately wondering if there was some sort of protocol for calming strangers from alternate dimensions. Were Unspeakables given sensitivity training for these things?

Uncertain and feeling horribly foolish Sirius grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the hot water. Then, in a move that surprised himself, he plopped himself on the floor behind Harry and pulled the youth over so that his back was leaning against Sirius' chest. It was, Sirius reflected, far too easy to move him.

Rocking slightly, Sirius wiped Harry's face with the washcloth and muttered nonsense words of comfort. In the light of day this moment was going to be incredibly embarrassing for both of them. But for now it didn't matter.

Harry's tears dried up fairly quickly and his breathing evened out. Sirius was more worried about the persistent tremors. If he didn't know better he'd swear Harry had been held under the Cruciatus curse.

"Come on, Plack. Let's get you up off the floor."

Sirius half carried and half dragged Harry back to the second floor bedroom the young man had claimed. The room was meticulously clean with the single exception of the bed sheets which were rolled, knotted and flung haphazardly about. Sirius wasn't really surprised. Any nightmare bad enough to make a bloke sick was definitely bad enough to cause them to thrash around.

Well, he wasn't about to make the bed the muggle way while Harry was leaning on him for support. Sirius flipped out his wand and spoke the incantation.

Nothing.

Sirius cursed. And again, nothing. No sound escaped his lips at all. _Silencing charms. Heavy ones to block all sound in the room and not just keep sounds from escaping._

Hot anger flashed through Sirius' veins. Harry had screamed himself raw up here and neither he nor Remus had heard a bloody thing. Sirius wasn't sure if he was mad at Harry for setting up the spell in the first place or himself for being unable to help.

A sharp, overpowered flick of the wrist brought down the silencing spell with a slight bang. A second spell (he could hear his own voice this time) made the bed. Sirius manoeuvred Harry onto the mattress with little enough trouble, though with no help from Harry.

Tucking the blankets in close around the young wizard, Sirius sat down to await the arrival of the cavalry.

He didn't have to wait long.

A scowling and more than normally ruffled Madam Pomfrey barged in a moment later. She was carrying what Sirius mentally referred to as her standard Order field kit. Though not actually a member of the Order of the Phoenix herself, the mediwitch was more than used to treating the wounds of its members.

"Madam Pomfrey…" Harry murmured.

Poppy blinked, looking a bit startled. "Yes, dear. How…?"

Harry didn't answer as a rough spasm ripped through his body. All traces of annoyance disappeared from the Healer as she immediately went to work. Sirius didn't even attempt to keep up with what she was doing and joined Remus and Albus out in the hallway instead.

"He had a silencing spell up. A bloody strong one too; a bomb could've gone off and we wouldn't have heard it." Sirius informed them.

Remus appeared startled. "Why would he do that?"

"Nightmares. I'm guessing Harry doesn't sleep very well. Albus, he said something about a nightmare that turned into a vision."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "A vision, you say? Given whom he is and that he holds the brother wand too… More and more interesting."

Sirius glanced at Remus, who simply shook his head. Neither of them knew what Albus was talking about.

The older wizard smiled. "You haven't worked it out yet. I must admit to being surprised. It seemed rather obvious to me. But then, I do have a somewhat unique perspective."

Sirius stared at him. "Albus, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Just an old man's ramblings," he replied. "Do not concern yourself overmuch."

Madam Pomfrey chose that moment to join them in the hall; her face was a mask of absolute rage. "I have done what I can for him at the moment. He is sleeping under the influence of a Dreamless Sleep potion, though I am loath to give it to him considering some of the other potions I found lingering in his system. But after what he has been through he needs the uninterrupted sleep. I want an explanation, Albus! What did you have that young man doing that he was exposed to the Cruciatus curse?

Sirius could only gape in horror.

"He was _what_?"


	7. Rotten, evil story

_Author's Notes: Yet another short chapter. But I suppose something is better than nothing._

_I'm taking liberties on the time that a person can deal with the Cruciatus curse. I haven't been able to find any official numbers, and while fanon tends to hold out that a person can deal with it for a much longer time than I have listed here, I tend to think that the body would give out much sooner. Actually, even the times that I have listed here are more generous than I think reality would be._

_I'm also going to break one of my own rules and ask if people would please go check out "The Love Affairs of H.J. Potter." Considering I'm writing it because of the pairing debates with this fic, I figure __**some**__ of you might be interested. So far it has two one shots, a Severus x Harry and a Luna x Harry. More are on the way._

_Finally, an announcement for those of you who read French: kitou 717 sent me a pm a while back with a request to translate Fortune Favours the Damned into French, which I agreed to. Seeing as I don't speak French I'd love to hear back on the translation. It's called__ La fortune sourit au damne__ and can be found by going through kitou 717's profile. If anyone is interested in translating the reviews for me I'd be much obliged!_

*****

**Chapter 7:** Rotten, evil story

"That's impossible," Remus exclaimed. "He was here the entire time!"

Poppy gave him a scathing look. "I know what I am talking about, Remus Lupin. That young man is suffering from at least ten minutes worth of exposure to the most painful curse in existence."

_Ten minutes!_ Sirius' stomach did an uncomfortable flip. Twelve minutes continuous exposure was enough to cause permanent untreatable nerve damage. At twenty the mind broke down entirely. "Poppy... ten minutes... is he..."

The matron's expression softened slightly. "Nothing I can't fix, dear. He's going to be shaky for a few days, but he'll be alright."

Sirius let out a whoosh of breath.

"How...?" Remus muttered weakly. "Sirius and I, we would never..."

"Of course not, my boy," Albus replied gravely. "Though I am going to take a look at your wands. And at Harry's, since someone else could have used it."

Sirius numbly handed over his wand and watched as Albus revealed the last few spells used by it. The process was repeated with Remus' wand. Neither of them had cast anything more vicious than a hair colour changing spell. It didn't really prove anything – there were ways around Prior Incantato – but it was _something_.

It was Madam Pomfrey who slipped back into Harry's room to retrieve his wand. Albus stared at it for a moment before shaking his head and murmuring the incantation. The results were no more useful.

Albus frowned. "I'm not sure if I should be relieved or worried about the questions this brings up."

Sirius rubbed his eyes. "What do you need us to do, Albus?"

"I wish I could simply tell you to go to bed, however..."

Remus was nodding. "We should check the wards and do a quick loop around the house. And – Sirius, I know you won't like this, but Kreacher might know something."

"He better not have anything to do with this," Sirius scowled, "or I swear I won't be responsible for what I do to the bloody elf." Sirius sent Albus a warning look; he wasn't about to listen to any platitudes on house elf treatment tonight. Besides, it wasn't house elves that he had problems with. It was very specific to Kreacher.

"Very well," Albus said wearily. "Unfortunately it must be you that speaks with Kreacher, Sirius. I shall check the wards. Remus, if you would check the house and perhaps the immediate vicinity?"

"I'll stay here until one of you gets back," Poppy said. "After that I'll need to retrieve some supplies."

Albus handed back Harry's wand. "Please put this back, Poppy. I doubt Harry will be very pleased with us otherwise."

The four split off in separate directions. Sirius was intent on getting into a room with a lock on the door before calling Kreacher. If he was going to end up strangling the blasted creature he might as well avoid interruptions.

An unused third floor bedroom was ideal for his purposes. Sirius took a deep breath to try and push back his temper. "Kreacher!"

He waited a moment for the tell-tale pop of house elf apparition. It didn't come.

"Kreacher, come here you little creep!"

A minute passed and then a second one before Sirius swore. Something was wrong. Something was very, _very_ wrong. A house elf couldn't just _not show up_ when their master called. The magic wouldn't allow for it.

Sirius ripped open the door and bounded down the stairs to the ground floor, twisting around corners and waking up his mother's portrait in the process. He ignored her screaming as he took the narrow staircase down to the kitchen two steps at a time. Kreacher's room was down here.

Swearing a blue streak in his mind, Sirius wrenched open the door to the one room he'd never been in.

And nearly gagged.

"Sirius! I saw you running down here. What the hell –" Remus stopped dead.

"Moony, grab Albus."

Remus took off at a run.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment before taking a second look. The little room was a fairly typical bedroom, albeit on a house elf scale. The walls, the floor, the ceiling and the furniture were all completely normal and untouched. What was making Sirius sick to his stomach was Kreacher's corpse.

It looked like he had burnt up from the inside. The skin was black and shrivelled, it pealed back in places revealing muscle, tissue, bones, even organs. Or what was left of them anyway.

Sirius had never seen anything like it. He wished he wasn't seeing it now.

A firm hand pulled him back from the doorway. Sirius vaguely recognized Albus' voice coaxing him to take a seat at the kitchen table. The firmness of the chair brought reality back down around him. "What could cause that?" Sirius asked in a shaky voice.

"I truthfully do not know," Albus admitted. "Let us hope that another house elf may be able to provide the answers. Remus, I hate to ask this of you, but it is even more vital now that the house be checked."

Sirius caught the concerned look Remus was giving him and waved him off. The werewolf left, but not without another uncertain look.

"Now, let us see what we can find out. Colby," he called, "could you please come here?"

A slight pop revealed a young elf with bright yellow eyes.

"What can Colby do for Master Dumbledore, sir?"

"I'm very sorry about this, Colby. But there has been trouble with another house elf and we are at a loss."

If the situation had been any less grim, Sirius would have laughed at the scandalized expression on Colby's face.

"Troubles with house elf, sir? What does great Master need Colby to do?"

Albus quietly led the house elf over to Kreacher's room. Sirius thought that he'd never seen Dumbledore so reluctant to do a thing in his life.

He knew the moment Colby caught a look at the corpse. The little elf shrieked and began hitting himself. "Evil, evil, evil things! Shame to house elves everywhere!"

Albus grabbed Colby's hands and dragged him away. "Please, Colby. Can you tell us what happened?"

The question caused the house elf to clamp down on its hysterics. "Bad elf end up like Thuy, sirs."

"Thuy?" Albus asked.

Colby was shaking. "Is house elf story. Passed down to little house elves. Horrible, horrible things, Master Dumbledore, sir."

Sirius stared at the young elf. He'd never thought about house elves having stories.

"Can you share the story with us, Colby?"

Colby let loose a keening wail. "Colby can tells yous. But is rotten, evil story."

Albus seemed to age years in that moment. "I'm sorry, Colby. But I really must know."

"Thuy was house elf, long ago. Shes was bonded to a great wizarding family. But when old master died, Thuy thought new master was not good enough master for great wizard family. Shes was bad house elf." Colby was visibly twitching at what he was saying. "Shes wanted old master back."

_Well,_ thought Sirius, _at least the story is sounding familiar._

"Please, Master Dumbledore, sirs, house elf magics is different from wizard magic. House elf bound to family is bound to _whole_ family, but must listen to master first. If master is no good... if family want different master, house elf magics can do things. Thuy... Thuy asked magics to bring great master to family. Because family wished it also, magics made it happen. But was evil thing, betrayal of Thuy's master. House elves must not betray their master, must be punished if they do. Thuy's evil so great, her magics burn her up as punishment."

Colby's gaze shot towards Kreacher's room. "Is also what happened to bad elf."

Sirius sucked in a breath.

"Colby," Albus said slowly. "Is there any way to tell what Kreacher asked for?"

The house elf made a small gesture, briefly illuminating Kreacher's room in blue. "Bad elf bes asking for greatest master of Black family to be brought here, Master Dumbledore, sir."

"Thank you Colby. You can leave now. If you want to go visit your family please do."

Colby bowed slightly. "Colby be doing that, sirs." He made a little half turn before turning back to Albus for a moment. "Bad elf's name Kreacher, sir? House elves bes remembering that Master Dumbledore, sirs."

And with a pop he was gone.

"Dear Merlin," Albus murmured.

Sirius could only nod in agreement.


	8. Who are you?

_Author's Notes: Before you all start ranting at me about why Sirius doesn't figure it out in this chapter, I'll just let you know that there is an explanation and that it will be coming up next chapter._

_Thank you all for your patience. As always, please review._

*****

**Chapter 8:** Who are you?

It was two stressful days before Harry was allowed out of bed. In that time he'd rather forcefully deflected any questions Sirius asked about his nightmare. Both Remus and Lily had been similarly stonewalled before Dumbledore had simply told them to let it be.

No one had told Harry about Kreacher yet.

On a more productive note the Marauders had managed to charm Dumbledore's sock collection with the rather surprising help of McGonagall. She'd shocked the life out of them with her offer of assistance (though it was obvious that the Headmaster had done _something_ to piss her off, Minerva wasn't volunteering any information.)

Currently Albus was being followed everywhere by a dozen pairs neon pink dancing socks. It had even made the _Daily Prophet_ when Dumbledore had been forced to go to a meeting with the charm still in place.

It was glorious, though Sirius had private suspicions that Albus was faking his inability to get rid of them.

Harry had laughed hard enough at the pictures that Madam Pomfrey had kicked Sirius out of the room for "disturbing her patient."

Speaking of the medi-witch, Sirius felt a grin settle easily into place as he listened to Poppy give Harry a list of things he was and wasn't allowed to do.

Sirius met Harry's gaze from his position in the doorway and rolled his eyes. Harry gave a quick smile in response.

"- and you are to take it easy young man! No gallivanting around. Have Sirius fire-call me if you feel the _least_ amount of pain."

"Yes ma'am," Harry replied dutifully.

She glared at him for a moment, obviously disbelieving. "Well, then. I should be getting back to restocking the school's supply of potions." As she brushed by Sirius she gave the Marauder a _look_ that he interpreted as 'take care of him or I will kill you.'

"Shall we get you out of bed then?" Sirius asked the moment she disappeared.

Harry glared. "I can get myself out of bed, thank you. I don't rightfully know what she kept me so long for anyway. Cruciatus doesn't require two days bed rest."

Sirius refrained from commenting. He'd gotten the impression that it was rather more than just Harry's mysterious brush with the unforgivable (as if that wasn't bad enough.) Poppy had railed to anyone within earshot about the signs of malnutrition, sleep deprivation and potions abuse she'd found. And that wasn't even starting on the indicators of previous injury.

Sirius' gut had clenched painfully as he'd listened to Poppy's rants.

For that matter his gut was clenching now, watching as Harry slowly and unsteadily brought himself to his feet. Sirius had no bloody clue why he was so _attached_ but he was damn well going to see to it that Harry was taken care of from now on.

Harry swayed on his feet. "Damn it," he muttered, clearly frustrated. "What the hell did she give me? I shouldn't be this disoriented."

"Food will probably help," Sirius offered, still making no move to assist. The gesture wouldn't be appreciated.

"No offense, but I'm not eating anything you've cooked, Padfoot."

"Nor should you," said a warm feminine voice from behind Sirius. "The mutt would probably poison you."

Sirius pouted at Lily. "I'll have you know that my hot dogs are top notch."

Harry and Lily both snorted. Sirius blinked at the nearly identical sound. _That was… weird._

Lily brushed past Sirius. "Need help there, Harry?" she asked, reaching out a hand to steady him. The young man stiffened slightly before relaxing and nodding his head.

"No fair!" Sirius objected. "Why does she get to help when I don't?"

Two sets of brilliantly green eyes pinned him to the doorway. Something desperately tried to connect in Sirius' brain.

Harry smirked and the spell was broken. "She's prettier than you are."

Sirius shook his head; for a moment there he'd almost thought… but the idea flowed out of his mind like water.

"See if I ever offer _you_ help again," Sirius grumbled, nonetheless taking up a 'spotting' position as they carefully made their way downstairs.

Downstairs, as it turned out, was a beehive of activity. People were flooing in and out, leaving hurried messages and looking strained.

Sirius, Lily and Harry paused on the stairs, looking on the activity in shock.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded, grabbing Arthur Weasley's arm as the man darted by.

Arthur glanced at Harry. "There's been a break in at Azkaban."

Sirius exchanged a look with Lily. She nodded. _Good, she'll take care of Harry._ "What are we wasting time here for? Let's go."

Arthur shook his head. "You don't understand. There's _been_ a break in. Whatever happened it's over already."

"What the hell?!" Sirius exclaimed. "Why didn't we know?"

"I have no idea," Arthur replied. "I'm on my way to the Ministry, I was just dropping in to leave the initial casualties list for Albus."

Sirius nodded. Just one last thing then. "When?"

"Two days ago. In the middle of the night." The reply came from Harry.

Sirius turned and stared. Arthur looked at Harry in disbelief, "How…"

But Sirius had it figured out. "Your nightmare – why didn't you…"

Harry refused to meet his gaze, shrugging slightly. "I didn't know if it was real. And it wouldn't have mattered anyway. It was… too late by that point."

Sirius felt the rush of anger overwhelm him before he could do anything about it. "You bloody well should have said!"

"Sirius!" Lily objected, but Sirius wasn't paying the least bit attention to her now. Not with Harry glaring back at him, a frightening amount of power in his eyes.

"When should I have said?" Harry snapped. "When I was vomiting into your toilet? Or when I was unconscious? Or afterward, when I was recovering and nothing appeared to have happened? They've been false before, Sirius. The last time I acted on a false vision you died!"

The words rang in Sirius' ears. He'd died. The other 'him' had died. He'd known that before. Harry had said it that night. But it hadn't registered; he'd been too worried about Harry.

And Harry blamed himself for it. For the death of 'his' Sirius.

"Harry," he murmured hesitantly, wanting to reach out and embrace the young man, once again wanting to ask. But he couldn't. Not with Lily and Arthur watching and Harry looking so lost.

"Sorry," he said instead.

Harry shrugged it off. "Doesn't matter," he muttered, before giving Sirius a guarded look. "Aren't you an Auror? Vacation or not they're going to want you at the office right now."

"Right," Sirius said reluctantly.

"I'll take care of him," Lily reassured him.

Sirius nodded, and opened his mouth to say something, but Harry gave him a very slight smile that had him shutting his mouth and nodding again.

"Right," he repeated. "I'm off then."

*****

Harry had been right about Sirius being needed at the office. He'd worked a long, frustrating shift before Kingsley had told him to go home, that there was nothing more he could do.

Sirius rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve some of the tension.

They knew no more about what happened then they had this morning. Everyone had looked ready to hex each other last going off. To make matters worse Sirius had spent the entire time trying not to brood on the subject of Harry.

_I need to go to bed,_ he thought, rubbing at his eyes.

He took the stairs, pausing on the landing for the second floor.

Without really thinking about it Sirius detoured by Harry's room. He wanted… well, he didn't really know what he wanted. But he needed to check up on Harry before bed.

The door was slightly ajar.

"Wait, let me get this straight," Harry was saying. "You think I was brought here by _Kreacher_? You really think I'm the 'greatest' master of the Black family?"

Sirius paused at the incredulous sound of Harry's voice. He knew he shouldn't, but this was not a conversation he could leave alone.

"Do you not believe it possible?" a voice questioned. Sirius recognized it immediately. Albus. Albus was talking to Harry.

"I'm not exactly a poster child for the ideals of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Hell, I'm not even a blood relation!"

Well, that was news. Sirius made a mental note to interrogate Harry on _how_ he became Lord Black some time.

"Ah, but there are many ways to define greatest, my boy." There was an almost frightening intensity in Albus' voice. "You could be greatest in strength, or intelligence. Or even the greatest in love."

Harry snorted. "Bloody hell. You and your love will conquer all bullshit."

Albus hummed an unconcerned note. "Unless I am much mistaken, love is precisely what destroyed Voldemort in your dimension, Harry."

"How dare you?" Harry hissed. "You have no idea what it took to bring him down. What I –"

"-What you had to sacrifice," Albus interrupted. "No, I admit that I likely do not. But I am correct, aren't I? It was _you_ who destroyed the Lord Voldemort of your world. You were the 'living focus.'"

The silence made Sirius think that Harry was glaring a hole into Albus' forehead.

But Albus wasn't done. "But that is hardly surprising. You, after all, were the one to stop him in the first place. As you were here."

Sirius could only stare at the wall with blank incomprehension. Harry… Harry was… Harry was what? His mind refused to hold onto the answer.

Harry's voice turned weary. "I thought you were going to leave me alone, Albus."

"I wish I could… You have no idea how much I wish I could do that for you. But today's news has changed much."

"Azkaban," Harry murmured. "And the Dementors."

"Just so," Albus acknowledged. "We need you, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Go away Professor. I'll think about it."

A rustle of cloth accompanied Dumbledore's trip out of the bedroom.

Sirius stumbled out of the way, but Albus didn't even pause, just gave him one of his inscrutable smiles and gestured towards the room.

Sirius counted a full minute before entering.

Closing the door behind him, Sirius studied Harry, taking in the messy black hair and the green eyes. He _knew_ they should mean something to him, but he just couldn't quite grasp what.

Harry looked tired - tired and far older than he should. "Sirius?" he questioned.

Sirius stared intently at him, struggling to form the question, wondering if he would even get an answer.

"Sirius?" Harry asked again, looking concerned.

Sirius took a deep breath.

"Who are you?"


	9. But you’re still Harry

_Author's Notes: There are times when I know exactly what it is that I want to write, but for some reason cannot find the correct words for it. This chapter is a good example of this. I've wanted to write this chapter for ages, and now that I finally came to it I found it to be the most difficult yet. It is, as always, a bit on the short side. That all said I'm surprisingly happy with it._

*****

**Chapter 9: **But you're still Harry.

Who are you?

It was a question that had a million others behind it. 'Who are you' was also 'who am I to you', 'who are you to me' and countless other questions that Sirius couldn't put the words to.

Harry was looking at him like he had ten heads. "Er… I'm Harry, remember? The magically appearing dimensional traveller?"

"No," Sirius said, frustrated with his inability to articulate what he was asking. "Who are you really? What is – was your relationship with the other Sirius? Why do I feel like I'm missing something important?"

Something flickered in Harry's expression. Sirius didn't know what it was, he couldn't even begin to explain what it was he saw there, underneath the mask Harry was wearing.

And suddenly he wanted to ask another question. "What happened to you?"

He was completely unprepared for the incandescent rage that question brought on. "What _happened_ to me?" Harry repeated, danger present in every word.

Sirius reached out and grabbed Harry's wrists. "I know I'm not your Sirius, but you can talk to me. What happened?"

"Get out," Harry snapped, ripping his hands away.

Sirius shook his head. "Harry, I –"

"Get OUT!"

The blast of magic pushed Sirius straight out the door, which slammed shut and locked behind him.

Sirius didn't sleep that night. Alone in his room, he paced and cursed and called himself and Harry all kinds of names. He damned himself for being useless. He damned Kreacher for bringing Harry here. He damned Harry for being so stubborn and secretive.

And he damned the other Sirius for leaving the young man.

When the light of dawn came Sirius was exhausted, uncertain and aching in a way that had nothing to do with his body.

He sat on his bed and looked around the room he had grown up in. It had been his sanctuary. But a sanctuary inside a prison wasn't enough, and he had left it behind. And now he was back here, imprisoned by choice and by circumstance.

He wondered what Harry considered to be his sanctuary.

_Enough of this._ He wasn't getting any sleep; it was just as well to get up.

Sirius fumbled his way through a shower and a change of clothing. The shower wasn't strictly necessary, but it woke him up a bit, and there was nothing like scalding hot water to ease an aching body.

Making his way down the stairs of 12 Grimmauld Place, Sirius thought over what he was going to say if he ran into Harry. Should he apologise? Demand answers? Or should he just ignore the whole thing?

He speculated on how much sleep Harry had gotten. That line of thought brought a grimace to Sirius' face. Chances were that between himself and Albus that the younger wizard had likely pulled a sleepless night of his own.

Albus. That was a whole other train of thought. What the hell had meant about _Harry_ having defeated Voldemort? Even if that was the case, Harry would have been... seventeen? Eighteen, maybe? How did a kid end up defeating a Dark Lord? And it was more than that. Albus had implied that Harry had stopped Voldemort here, in this dimension too.

But Lily was the one who'd taken the Killing Curse.

Sirius cursed the muddle of confusion in his head. He was too tired for this.

Breakfast consisted of coffee and some toast. With any luck the caffeine would work wonders. Silently praising Lily for introducing him to the addictive Muggle beverage, Sirius gulped down two full mugs before his brain kicked into sluggish action.

What did he know about Harry?

He was a half-blood, had been raised by Muggles and _somehow_ ended up with the Lord Black title. He was related to the Potters. And he'd been in Gryffindor.

At only twenty-two years old he was young still, but he had the reflexes and, more importantly, the attitude of a much older Auror. He'd lived through war time, had seen a lot of people die and Albus thought he'd defeated Voldemort. Sirius wasn't so sure about that one but Harry was admittedly powerful. More powerful than any twenty-two year old had any real right to be. But he also didn't appear to be completely in control.

Harry was – well, _moody_ was probably the best word. He oscillated between emotions and personalities at the drop of a hat. If Poppy's rants were any indication Harry was probably also depressed or something similar. _No one_ showed that many indications of malnutrition and potions abuse without having something seriously wrong with them.

_Oh, yes, Sirius. The kid survives a war that kills pretty much everyone he knows and you expect him __**not**__ to be moody and depressed?_

Sirius groaned. This was getting him nowhere. There were too much information missing. He needed proper answers.

_Well,_ Sirius thought, draining his third mug. _There's only one place to get those._

He found Harry in the library.

The younger wizard sat crossed legged on the floor, a distant look in his eyes and surrounded by books. _Modern history_, Sirius noted without any real thought.

Sirius hesitated at the threshold, suddenly a lot less confident of his welcome.

But Harry didn't seem to see him there. _He looks exhausted,_ Sirius thought, knowing full well that he probably didn't look any better. _Is it really okay to push him for answers when he's that knackered? _With a sigh Sirius turned to leave. Later, he promised himself. He'd face this later.

"This is real, isn't it?" Harry's voice caused Sirius to stop mid-step. Sirius looked back, meeting Harry's gaze.

Green eyes. _Like Lily's_.

Harry broke eye contact and raked a hand through his hair. Sirius was caught, for a moment, with the familiarity of that gesture.

Harry let loose a great whoosh of breath. "You might as well come in, Padfoot."

Silently, Sirius sat himself on the floor directly across from Harry. His muscles protested a little at the action, reminding him that he wasn't in his twenties anymore.

"We can sit in the chairs if you prefer," Harry offered with a small twinge of amusement in his voice.

"You implying I'm old, Plack?" Sirius replied.

"Ah, no. Never," Harry said, clear laughter in his eyes.

But the easy camaraderie melted away as the two stared at each other, leaving Sirius uncertain at what was happening here.

Harry broke the tension. "You had questions?"

Sirius nodded slightly. "Who are you?"

Harry smiled, but it was a self depreciating smile. "I'm Harry. Or at least, that's mostly who I am."

Sirius made a face at the answer, making Harry laugh. "My name, if that's what you are looking for, is Harry James Potter."

"Harry James Potter," Sirius repeated, wondering why he felt that name ought to mean more to him. "James called it, didn't he? You're a distant relative or something."

Harry looked thoughtful. "You haven't broken it yet." And this sentence was as incomprehensible as the rest.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sirius demanded in frustration.

"There's a spell on me," Harry explained. "A very complicated variation of the Notice Me Not charm. It's to keep people from recognizing me. They might know my name, but unless they make a real mental effort they won't connect that to any relevant information."

Sirius gave a low whistle. That was seriously difficult magic. And it explained that feeling of _missing something_ that Sirius kept getting. "Why have something like that?"

This time Harry's smile turned positively sardonic. "I'm something of a celebrity back in my universe."

"You never call it home," Sirius noted, examining Harry's expression carefully. "You say 'my dimension,' 'my universe' or 'my world.' But I haven't once heard you say 'my home.'"

"Home? I don't really have one," Harry replied with a shrug. "Hogwarts is the closest I've ever had."

Sirius nodded. He could, at least, understand that. "Aren't you – I mean, there must be someone from your dimension that you miss."

"You'd be amazed. My family, my friends, my teachers – everyone around me died, Sirius!" Harry's grief was palpable; Sirius could feel it beating against him in waves. "And now I'm here and _you're all alive_ but you _aren't_ the people I love. And – and this is all so messed up."

Sirius stared at Harry's shaking hands. Then he asked the question he'd wanted to ask for days. "Harry...What's our relationship? What is it that I don't know?"

Harry laughed. It was the kind of harsh laugh people give when the only other option is crying. "Damned if I know. I barely knew you, we had two years with on and off contact and then I screwed up and you died. But you were my godfather, and my friend and the closest thing I've ever had to a real parent."

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath, because the mental wall that had surrounded all things to do with Harry had abruptly shattered at the word godfather. He stared at Harry. Black hair and green eyes. _James'_ hair and _Lily's_ eyes.

Harry gave him a tired grin. "Finally cut through the magic, did you?"

"Harry?" Sirius whispered with near reverence. In his mind's eye he could still see the tiny dead child, bruised, unmoving and with that horrible scar on his forehead. He could see an unconscious Lily, a hysterical James, and the stillborn baby boy in his arms.

And in front of him now, a grown up man who looked like James but who had Lily's eyes. And maybe he wasn't really happy or completely healthy but he was _alive_.

Sirius reached out a hand, and brushed aside the young man's bangs. And sure enough, there was that scar. Still there, even with the difference of time and space.

"Merlin, _Harry_," Sirius choked, roughly pulling his godson – _his godson!_ – into a hug.

But Harry only let him hold him for a brief moment before pulling away. Sirius let him go reluctantly. The two sat in utter silence for a few minutes, just looking at each other, trying to gauge emotions.

"I'm not, you know," Harry said finally.

Sirius shook his head.

Harry held up a hand to forestall any argument. "I'm not your Harry. I can't replace the child that was lost."

"No," Sirius admitted. That child was buried in the graveyard near Godric's Hollow. He was dead and gone. "But you're still Harry."


	10. The other Harry

_Author's Notes: Sorry about the wait. I've been really, really sick. This is a super short chapter, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. Bit more cursing in this one than I usually do. Couldn't avoid it really, it wouldn't have felt right without it._

*****

**Chapter 10:** The other Harry

Sirius' mind was whirling with questions. Too many questions really. So many that he had no idea where to start.

Harry beat him to it. "So, tell me what happened to him, to the other Harry."

Sirius sucked in a breath, and moved his gaze away from his godson. "Is that what you were doing here?" he asked unsteadily, once again taking in the mound of books that Harry had splayed around him. "Trying to find answers to the past?"

The younger man gave him an ironic grin. "Something like that."

Sirius hesitated. He didn't want to talk about this. He _never_ wanted to talk about this. But...

"We'd been hearing rumours about an attack. We thought – _Dumbledore_ thought that Voldemort was going to attack Diagon Ally. He also thought we had time to prepare."

He picked up one of books, idly running his fingers along the spine. "These books make it sound like a grand battle, you know? With both sides neatly lined up with well thought out battle plans . . . It wasn't. It was a blood bath. Voldemort attacked Diagon Ally like we thought, but it was a good three weeks early. We weren't expecting it yet and we sure as hell weren't ready for it."

Sirius looked up, expecting to see pity and finding nothing but understanding. "Lily shouldn't have been there. But she was always stubborn as hell and the attack wasn't supposed to happen yet. She was shopping," Sirius smiled, "looking to add more stuff to your nursery."

He paused, his eyes raking over Harry's face and remembering the awe he'd felt. "James and Lily were so happy about you. We all were. You were going to be the first of the second generation of Marauders! There was a war happening, but there was this little life growing inside of Lily and we were all swept away by it."

Sirius cleared his throat and blinked rapidly. "James and me were on duty when the call came. James – James went deathly pale and apparated away before I got the chance to register what was happening. It was stupid, it went against Auror procedure and it was such a _James_ thing to do."

Harry chuckled. "My friends used to complain about me doing things like that."

"Yeah, well, being me I went right after him," Sirius admitted. "So I guess you've got it coming from all sides."

Harry gave him a bright grin that abruptly had Sirius thinking he'd gained more from Lily than just his eyes. _This is my godson. He's here, he's real. And he has Lily's smile._

"Sirius?" Harry questioned uncertainly.

"Sorry," Sirius murmured. "Got lost for a moment."

"We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to," Harry said quickly, something dark and empathetic flitting through his expression.

"Huh?" Sirius said. "Oh! No, no, it's okay. I was . . . thinking about something else for a second there. No worries, Plack."

Harry scrunched up his eyebrows uncertainly but nodded.

"Where was I? Ah, right. James being his usual idiot self."

Harry snickered. "Like you're any better."

Sirius gave him his best 'who, me?' look, before settling into a more serious mood. "I apparated right into an anti-apparition ward. Got knocked back a good ten feet from where I was supposed to land. Splinched the tip of my nose, actually. I was lucky the damn thing didn't kill me."

Harry's eyes flicked to Sirius' nose. "Yeah," Sirius said. "I did manage to get it fixed after."

"There were a lot of wards up. Anti-apparition, anti-portkey, anti-floo, a general ward to keep people from entering the area. Every last one of them was temporary, but we couldn't get through. James . . ." Sirius paused, remembering the look on James' face. Remembering the way he blasted spell after spell after spell at the wards, how he'd screamed Lily's name. "James went crazy trying to get through. Nothing worked. We couldn't do anything but wait for the ward cracking team to do their job."

Sirius shook his head to clear the memory images. "I'm told it only took three minutes. Longest three minutes of my life, standing there, just watching and waiting . . ."

"It was bad," Harry murmured.

"We stood there and watched while the bloody Death Eaters killed and tortured people," Sirius snarled. "We were so close and couldn't do a thing about it! People were screaming for help, desperately flinging everything they knew at those fucking shits." He ran an agitated hand through his hair, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.

Harry remained silent while Sirius got himself back together. When the older wizard looked up he found Harry gazing at him steadily with no horror, just a sad sort of acceptance. _No!_ Sirius' mind screamed._ I don't want him to understand this! He shouldn't have to. He should never have had to._

"Harry-" Sirius choked.

Harry shook his head. "Later," he murmured.

_I'm holding you to that,_ Sirius promised silently.

"After the wards dropped?" Harry prompted.

"We fought our way through the crowd. I don't even know how many Death Eaters I killed, or how many civilians I shoved away from the fighting. I was just trying to watch Prongs' back. He wasn't thinking straight, he just kept blasting through the Death Eaters trying to find Lily."

Sirius sighed and readjusted his body. Sitting on the floor was starting to hurt. "We found her in front of Ollivander's. We also found Voldemort."

Harry stiffened slightly, his eyes piercing.

"Lily was protecting a muggleborn kid and her family. Eight months pregnant and wand to wand with the Dark Bastard himself. I'm telling you, Harry, never get your mum angry," he said, trying break the gloom.

"We were up to our necks in Death Eaters. We could see her, but we couldn't get anywhere near enough to help." Sirius closed his eyes, his voice tight, "Lily noticed us, it distracted her. And Voldemort hit her with an Avada Kedavra."

He opened his eyes again when he heard Harry take a sharp breath.

"There was this massive green light. Lit up the whole bloody street. When we could see again Voldemort was nothing but a pile of dust and robes. But Lily wasn't moving."

"Most of the Death Eaters panicked and left. When James and I got to Lily we realized that she was still breathing. Just barely, but it was there. I can still remember the relief." Sirius gave Harry a crooked smile, "We've all been a bit protective of her since then."

"I assume you took her to St. Mungo's?" Harry asked.

Sirius nodded. "It was touch and go for a long time. Lily spent a month in a coma. James was a complete wreck, he blamed himself for everything."

"And me – the other me?"

"Stillborn. The killing curse . . . it took yo – _Harry's_ life instead of Lily's."

Harry stared off into space for a long time. "Thank you for telling me what happened."

Sirius waited until he could catch Harry's gaze. "You're welcome," he said, before leaning back on his hands and smirking. "But I want some really embarrassing stories in exchange."

Harry laughed.

He sounded just like James.


	11. Soul Connections

_Author's Notes: I'm not even going to try to apologise for the lateness on this one. Safe to say I've got a lot going on and that I haven't abandoned any of my currently in-progress fics, but that I'm unlikely to be doing much writing for a while yet._

**Chapter 11: **Soul Connections

_Maybe if I light the whole place on fire it'll actually get clean_, Sirius mused sometime around eleven o'clock.

His little 'chat' with Harry hadn't really gone much farther after he'd finished telling the story of Voldemort's first defeat. They had been interrupted by the arrival of Hermione Granger, who was apparently on what the Order had dubbed "Harry duty" today, and Ronald Weasley, who wasn't but who had been dragged along anyway.

Hermione's arrival had been less than quiet. She'd shown up with no less than twenty books and proceeded to bombard Harry with questions. Harry had actually laughed before greeting them both with a pleasant good morning and a question about whether they'd eaten breakfast yet.

The muggleborn had the decency to blush at her rudeness, while the Weasley boy had pounced on the offer of food.

Sirius had abandoned Harry to the wolves soon after consuming a proper morning meal (his coffee and toast from earlier were failing to do the job). Hermione's questions were giving him a headache and he needed time to assimilate the conversation from earlier. He'd expertly ignored Harry's look of betrayal.

Several hours later Harry was probably still making a fruitless attempt at assuaging Hermione's curiosity. As for Sirius, he'd gone back to the even more fruitless attempts at cleaning the house.

_Yes, a good cleansing fire. Wouldn't even be hard. Just a little spell and WHOOSH!_

"Mr. Black?"

Sirius blinked, and turned to look at the bushy haired girl who'd suddenly appeared in his sitting room. "It's just Sirius. What happened to Harry? And Ron?" He added as an afterthought.

She huffed. "Talking about Qudditch. I just can't keep those two on track!"

Sirius choked back a laugh at her indignant expression, but couldn't hide his grin. "Only so much a chap can talk about inter-dimensional travel."

"But it's so fascinating!" Hermione exclaimed. "Harry's appearance proves so many theories!"

"So what can I help you with?" Sirius interrupted before the young woman could continue her rant. He'd discovered in the very short time he'd known her that she could go on for ages if you let her.

"Well, I was looking into that spell Harry mentioned. _Anima letum ritus._" Irritation crossed her face, "He was right. I couldn't find anything on it. But I did manage to find something on soul connections."

Sirius blinked, "Soul connections?"

"Don't you remember? Harry mentioned it as a necessary component of the spell. The 'living focus' has to have a soul connection with the spell's target."

Sirius _did_ remember. Vaguely. "Why are you bringing this to me?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, I brought it to Professor Dumbledore, but he didn't seem too concerned. And I know that if Professor Dumbledore thinks its okay, then I probably shouldn't worry."

"But?" Sirius prompted.

"But I can't get it out of my head that it's _important_. I think... I think that maybe _Harry_ was the living focus he mentioned. I mean, why would he know so much about the spell otherwise? And I know I've only just met him, but I feel like I know him and that..." She gestured wildly, "I don't know, that he needs to be taken care of? That he matters somehow?"

"Like he's a major part of your life and that if you can just reach a little further you'll be able to remember him?" Sirius supplied, thinking about his own confusing feelings for Harry, even before he'd known who he was.

"Exactly!" Hermione cried. "And Ron hasn't said anything, but those two have just... _connected_. Like they've been best friends forever. And they only really met a couple of hours ago."

Sirius sighed and took a seat, waving for Hermione to do the same. She ignored him, pacing the carpet instead.

"That spell of his worries me. He said that it required eight focus points of spirit energy, ones that have a positive emotive connection with the living focus. I didn't think about it at the time, but he was talking about dead people! About using the spirits of eight people who loved him to power the spell."

"You think he's dangerous?" Sirius questioned.

"No!" Hermione denied vehemently. "I think that spell _hurt_ him. That it did damage, or changed him, or _something_. And that's not even talking about the soul connection. The target was You Know Who. V-Voldemort. If I'm right about Harry being the living focus, that means he had, maybe still _has_, a soul connection with Voldemort!"

Sirius froze, horror seeping through him. "You aren't sure though," he managed to say. "You aren't sure that Harry was the living focus."

Hermione deflated. "Well, no. Not one hundred percent."

But Sirius _was_ sure. Albus had said it himself in that overheard conversation. _"__It was __you__ who destroyed the Lord Voldemort of your world. You were the 'living focus.'"_

Harry hadn't denied it.

And later, when Sirius had asked what had happened to him, Harry had been livid.

_Breathe, Black._ _Just keep breathing._

"Tell me about soul connections," Sirius demanded suddenly. "You said you found something."

Hermione pulled out a sheet of parchment. "This was everything I could find. I copied it word for word."

Sirius grabbed it and read.

_**Of Soul Connections**_

_There are two categories of soul connections, those that occur naturally and those that are unnatural. Under the first category there are two types. Type One: Soul Mates. Not necessarily lovers (in fact soul mates can often be bitter enemies, unable to escape the pull of the other), but two inextricably linked souls, brought together by the naturally occurring currents of magic. Type Two: Same Soul. This widely agreed upon cross-dimensional theory states that it is possible for one person to exist in separate dimensions due to a unique sort of soul connection. That is, two or more physical bodies in differing dimensions can be inhabited by the __**same soul**__, making them one person while also being separate individuals. An interesting, if not as widely accepted theory, is that certain 'information' is shared between the various Other Selves through the soul._

_The labels for the second category, unnatural soul connections, are something of a debate. I shall, for the purpose of this text, forgo the more common usage of light and dark due to the misleading nature of these terms. Rather, I prefer to refer to positive and negative connections, though not without some hesitation. In both the positive and the negative case these connections are caused by crafted magic – the magic of witches and wizards. The difference lies in the intent of the original casting. Positive connections come from magic crafted with the intent of creating a soul connection (regardless of the light or dark nature of the spell and/or ritual). Ritual marriage bonds are the most common example, though the connection they create is breakable. Some of the older slavery bonds also fall into this category. Negative connections are the result of high level magic – generally that of a dark nature – going awry. This last type is extremely rare and it is unknown precisely what sort of conditions can cause such magic to go so very wrong. The speculation in this field is wide and varied, and largely, unprovable. What is known is that the bearers of negative soul connections tend toward being unstable. Depression, anxiety, and outright madness can be symptoms of a negative connection. Even the most stable bearers of this kind of connection tend to display a disturbing lack of concern for their own well being._

"This is everything?" Sirius asked.

Hermione nodded. "The author abruptly cut to another topic after that."

Sirius closed his eyes. That just left one question.

What type of connection did Harry have with Voldemort?


	12. I want in

_Author's Notes: Well. I may be the slowest author in the world, as well as the one with the shortest updates, but at least I don't give up!_

**Chapter 12: **I want in

It was time for supper before Sirius saw Harry again.

"Hey, Sirius!" Harry greeted him, a grin on his face. "Where have you been all day?"

"Cleaning," Sirius told him, unable to keep an answering smile off his face. Well, it was a partial truth anyway. He had spent most of the day cleaning, right up until Hermione's bomb shell. The rest of the day had been spent trying to reconcile this new piece of information with the rest of the insanity that was Harry.

Leaning against the wall Sirius watched as Harry danced back and forth with the finishing touches on their meal. He chuckled, drawing Harry's attention.

"What?" The young wizard asked.

"You're in a good mood this evening," Sirius commented.

"I –" Harry paused. "Yeah, I suppose I am."

"Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Gone home," Harry held up a hand to delay anything Sirius might say. "I know. There's supposed to be at least two of you in the house with me at all times. But Hermione was itching to go do more research and- "

Sirius waved him off. "Don't worry about it, Plack. I'm pretty sure that you aren't about to go off on me. Actually I was thinking about telling Albus that this whole restriction business is ridiculous."

Harry stopped in the middle of stirring the soup. "Really?"

"Of course," Sirius replied. "Why would I lie about that?"

"For a joke," Harry responded immediately.

"Nah," Sirius said. "It'd be a pretty terrible joke."

"Thank you," Harry murmured quietly. Sirius clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"What are godfathers for?"

The wooden spoon dropped from Harry's hand.

"I don't care what you say. I don't care that you aren't the same Harry. I'm still claiming you as my godson, you got that?"

Sirius watched as Harry struggled for control. "I –"

The older wizard gave his godson a reassuring smile. "You don't have to respond right this instant, Plack." Sirius grabbed the glasses from a cupboard and began to set the table. "So," he asked cheerfully, "how did you convince Hermione that it was okay to leave? She doesn't seem the type to abandon a commitment like that."

Harry turned red. "Er... well, I kind of told her Remus was asleep in one of the bedrooms."

Sirius released a deep throated laugh.

* * *

When Sirius woke up the next morning there was an owl and a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ waiting for him in the kitchen. He idly offered the owl a treat and dropped a few coins in the bag it was carrying before removing his copy of the _Prophet_.

_**DEMENTOR'S DEFECT! VICTIMS OF THE KISS ON MINISTRY DOORSTEP!**_

_The wizarding world has been dreading the fallout from last Wednesday's raid of Azkaban Prison. You-Know-Who staged a breakout for those of his followers that were imprisoned there after the last war._

_This was terrifying enough, but it was the disappearance of Azkaban's guards that has had Wizarding Brittan on its toes. Now our worst fears have been confirmed, the Dementors have sided with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_Six victims of the Dementor's Kiss were found on the doorstep of the Ministry early this morning. While the Ministry has yet to release the names of these poor people, it has been confirmed that all six were Muggleborn employees of The Ministry of Magic._

_See **Minister** A2._

Sirius let the paper fall onto the kitchen table. "Damn it!" He hissed. Sighing, the animagus rubbed his face.

If this was any indicator then the war had just taken a serious downturn. The Order had known about the Dementors, but it was one thing to know and quite another to see the results in black and white on the front page of the newspaper.

How were they supposed to deal with this? A Patronus could keep a Dementor at bay, but it wouldn't destroy it. And if there were too many...

Sirius shuddered at the thought. A creature that literally sucked the happiness out of you, leaving you with only your most painful memories. A creature that could literally remove your soul. There was a reason that the only wizards and witches who ended up in Azkaban were the worst of criminals. Sometimes he wondered if _anyone_ deserved that fate.

If you weren't already mad when you went in, you'd certainly be so soon enough.

Sirius was skimming through the other front page articles – on defending against Dementors, and the Ministry's response – when the second owl arrived.

Reading the new missive Sirius frowned. Seemed his vacation time was officially cancelled. "Looks like I'm going to have to talk to Albus earlier than I thought," Sirius mumbled to himself.

"Why's that?"

Sirius jumped, turning on his spot. "Harry!"

Standing there in a loose t-shirt and trousers Harry looked completely unapologetic for scaring the life out of him. The younger man raised an eyebrow. "Jumpy this morning?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Seems I've been called back to work. Starting first thing tomorrow."

"Oh," Harry replied quietly. "I suppose that shouldn't be a surprise really, what with everything..."

"Yeah," Sirius said, any good humour draining out of him at the reminder of what happened this morning. "Actually, Harry..."

But Harry had already caught the headline on newspaper. The colour drained from his cheeks as he took a few quick steps forward and grabbed the newspaper.

"... Albus will probably call an executive meeting of the Order tonight," Sirius inserted into the sudden silence, watching in concern as Harry's hands shook.

"Harry, are you –"

"I want in," Harry interrupted.

"I – what?"

Harry looked up, his green eyes shining intensely. "I want in on that meeting."

Sirius opened his mouth to refuse before realizing that he really had no say in the matter. "I'll talk to Albus," he said instead.

"Good." Harry said sharply.

And for the first time in ages, Sirius was reminded of the dangerous young man who'd arrived in a flash of light.


	13. The Soul of the Rites of Death, Part 1

_Author's Notes: One of the odd things about dealing with a double AU is that there is a story within the story. Harry's tale in this chapter is more than comprehensive enough to cover an entire other piece of fan fiction. But it's also not the story I want to tell right now. It's based in one of my favourite sub-types of fics in the Harry Potter category, that is, the Snape-as-mentor fic that has been done so many times. But it precisely __**because**__ it's been done so much that I don't want to write it. I don't feel it's necessary really, it's enough to give the outline. One of the reasons that it took so long to get this chapter out is that it took me ages to decide that this was definitely the background story. In the end though I couldn't escape my love for Severus._

_I'm actually not a fan of this chapter. It's just too much exposition. But it is a required evil if I want to keep the story moving. So here it is._

**Chapter 13: The Soul of the Rites of Death, Part 1**

"Good news," Sirius said to Harry.

Harry looked up from his book expectantly.

"Albus agreed to let you in on tonight's meeting," Sirius said, waving the parchment he'd just received in emphasis.

Instead of looking pleased Harry appeared pained.

"Sirius..." Harry said. "There are things... There are things the Order needs to know. But I... I _can't_. I just can't tell them..."

Sirius watched him carefully. "Could you tell me?"

His question was met with silence.

Sirius sighed and took a seat next to Harry. He laid a comforting hand on his godson's shoulder.

"C'mon, Harry. It's just me. I'll worry about telling the rest. You wouldn't even have to be there for that part."

Harry pulled away. "I... Give me a few minutes?"

Sirius nodded.

Harry responded with a queasy smile before practically running out of the room.

Sirius sighed, summoning a tea set with a lazy flick of his wand.

* * *

Sirius looked up expectantly when Harry entered the room again. He offered a cup of tea with a silent gesture that Harry nodded to.

Boiling the tea pot with a simple tap of his wand, Sirius kept his gaze on Harry, watching his stilted movements and closed off expression carefully.

Neither spoke for some time as they both prepared their tea and drank. It wasn't until he was preparing his second cup that Harry began to talk.

"Half way through summer after fifth year I was brought to Grimmauld Place. Things were... bad. You'd just died and Voldemort was moving openly. There were attacks happening almost daily."

Harry shifted a little. "As your heir I was now the rightful owner of the house. But... well, I'm not a blood relation. Because of that when the wards shifted from you to me there was a glitch. A glitch that Kreacher took full advantage of. We didn't find out until later."

Sirius tightened his grip around his cup but kept his silence.

"This house... rightfully it belongs to the head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. But I wasn't the only potential Lord Black."

Sirius frowned thoughtfully. "The lordship of the house of Black is supposed to go to the nearest directly descendent male heir."

"Exactly," Harry said. "As your godson I was your magical heir, a direct descendent in all but blood, making me a candidate. But the nearest male _blood_ relative was Draco Malfoy."

"A glitch in the wards," Sirius mused for a moment. "... the Malfoy brat had access to the house didn't he?"

Harry nodded. "And Kreacher made sure to let him know it."

Sirius swore.

"Because of... what happened on the day you died, Malfoy's family was in trouble with Voldemort. When Draco discovered that he had access to Grimmauld Place –"

"He went directly to his father's master."

"Voldemort picked his timing well," Harry said, lazily stirring his tea. Sirius wasn't fooled for a moment. "The Death Eaters attacked during an Order meeting."

This time Sirius' string of curses were colourful and inventive.

Harry gave him a weak smile. "It was a disaster. There were a lot of deaths... for me personally the worst of those was Arthur and Molly Weasley."

Sirius blanched, his mind throwing up gruesome images of the loving Weasley couple as corpses.

"I didn't find out until later that they'd been killed," Harry continued, fighting to keep his voice steady. "I didn't find out _anything_ until later because I was knocked out of the fighting early on. When I woke up I was in a cell."

His mouth went dry. Sirius did his best to swallow. "You escaped though. Obviously, you had to."

Harry smiled at him. It was a dead expression, void of anything remotely resembling happiness. "Eventually. At a cost."

"By this point," Harry continued, "Voldemort had gotten cautious about his dealings with me. He decided not to attempt killing me just yet."

Sirius heard what he wasn't saying. There were worse things than dying. "The scars on your back," he murmured, sickened.

"Bellatrix's work," Harry informed him. "A cursed dagger. It's the only set of scars from that time that I wasn't able to get rid of."

_I'm going to be sick._

"You said Voldemort had gotten cautious. Why?"

"He'd tried to kill me before. The first time resulted in the destruction of his body. And he hadn't managed any success with his other attempts. So he needed more information. That... he got some of that from me."

Harry shifted, clear grief shining through.

"It wasn't your fault." Sirius declared.

Harry gave him another weak smile.

"There was a prophecy. _'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ...'_"

Sirius watched as Harry played with his spoon, not daring to interrupt again.

"He had already known part of the prophecy. He got the rest from me fairly quickly after I was captured."

Sirius didn't ask how. He was sure he didn't want to know.

"He needed me dead, but it had already been proven that he couldn't kill me the conventional way." Harry laughed. It was a horribly hollow sound.

"So he went researching... Sirius, what do you know about soul connections?"

"Just what Hermione told me the other day," Sirius replied.

"Hermione?" Harry repeated, shaking his head. "I should have figured. She always was one to research any mystery that came her way."

"It wasn't much," Sirius admitted. "Mostly I just know what they are. A bit about natural and unnatural connections. Soul mates and same souls. Positive and negative connections."

"What you'd find if you went looking in the Hogwarts library then," Harry said.

"Exactly," Sirius replied.

"Negative connections..." Harry looked distant. "I now know more about those than I ever wanted to."

Sirius shivered. "You have one with Voldemort."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "But... I would have been connected to him anyway. Do you know how a negative connection is created?"

"No," Sirius shook his head. "Just that it's usually an accident, caused by failed strong magic."

"It's actually a lot more specific," Harry informed him. "In order for a negative connection to happen the two people involved have to already have a soul connection. In my case... Voldemort was – _is_ my soul mate."

Sirius froze.

"Soul mates are absolute equals. Partnered pairs chosen by the strings of magic itself." Harry hesitated. "It's not that you _can't_ kill your soul mate. Just that it's... very, very difficult. Using something like the killing curse... well, that's where negative connections come from. The magic... it _twists_ the connection in ways that should never happen. It's an abomination." The last was said in a bare whisper.

Sirius jolted out of his shock at this, reaching out and grasping Harry's hand tightly.

Harry didn't respond to this, lost somewhere in his own recollections. "Soul mates can't kill each other in normal ways. A negative connection though... It takes that force and turns it outside of the connected pair. It makes it so that the _only_ person who can kill a person's soul mate is that person. But... the original restriction is still there. You _still_ can't kill that person easily. Voldemort was the only person who could kill me. I was the only person who could kill him. But neither of us could do it with ease."

"You were stuck," Sirius said simply.

"Yeah," Harry said.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, not wanting to but _needing_ to know.

"I was there for a month while Voldemort researched. Looking for a way."

Sirius swallowed. A _month_. A full month captured by Death Eaters.

"I would have gone insane if it wasn't for Severus."

"_Snape?_" Sirius replied in shock.

Harry smiled again, genuine this time. "I hated him before that. He hated me too. But... you can't keep hate up in a situation like that. He was all I had. The only connection to the outside world. And he... Severus is human, despite what he wants his students to think. And he loved mum."

Sirius could think of nothing to say to that. It wasn't news that Snape loved Lily.

"It wasn't in his power to rescue me alone. He would have died trying." Harry said this so firmly that Sirius didn't even think to argue.

"Eventually though, he was able to get enough information to the Order for them to put together a rescue plan."

Sirius examined Harry's expression carefully. "It didn't go according to plan."

"No. It worked but..." Harry closed his eyes against old grief. "Remus died."

"Moony?" Sirius whispered, shock and grief warring with each other. _He's alive! He's __**still**__ alive!_

"I did something stupid after that," Harry said, continuing the story. "I didn't tell anyone what I'd learned about the connection between me and Voldemort. I wanted nothing to do with it. I just... I wanted it to _go away_. All of it. I threw myself into my normal life. Into school and Quidditch and friends. No one said a word." Harry gazed thoughtfully into his now cold tea. "Looking back they must have been waiting for me to break."

Sirius could imagine that. What must it have felt like for Harry's loved ones to just sit back and wait for the inevitable break down a month in captivity – a month of torture – would cause?

"Severus got sick of it first," Harry said. "He dragged me into his personal quarters and told me I wasn't leaving until I stopped denying what had happened."

Harry chuckled. "It took a week. Severus was true to his word. He didn't let me leave for anything. He kept _talking_ about what had happened, kept expecting me to respond."

And Sirius suddenly felt a bit of thankfulness towards his schoolyard enemy.

"I broke down. But I still didn't stay a word about the soul connection. It was too much. Too difficult to deal with. I think – I think everyone knew that I was still holding something back. But they let it slide. And then the end of the year happened."

Sirius shifted forward in his seat.

"Voldemort snuck his Death Eaters in past the wards and attacked Hogwarts... it was a blood bath. It... Professor Dumbledore was killed duelling him. And my best friends...Ron and Hermione... they were killed protecting me."

Harry's hands were shaking. "Before Hermione died she demanded a promise from me. That no matter what happened, no matter who died or what Voldemort did I would keep living. It was her dying wish. If I'd known at the time just what I was agreeing to..."

"You promised her," Sirius said.

"Yes," Harry said. "My first Unbreakable vow. It's kept me amongst the living all this time. Hermione knew that, I think. Knew that without it, I ..." Harry trailed off, but Sirius didn't need him to complete the sentence.

Without it Harry would have killed himself by now.

"I'm glad," Sirius murmured fiercely.

Harry looked at him in surprise.

"I'm glad you are here."

Harry looked away again. Haltingly he kept going. "Severus dragged me away from that fight. Dragged me into hiding with him."

Sirius nodded approvingly. He would have done the same thing.

"Our losses were staggering. It didn't take long for Voldemort to take over both Hogwarts and the ministry. But Severus ignored it all. He knew the prophecy, knew that I would be the one to kill Voldemort. He was determined to start training me. I laughed at him and told him it would be a waste of time."

Harry gave another one of those enigmatic smiles. "I don't think he's ever been so angry with me. He lambasted me as a coward, as a fool who was willing to waste the sacrifices of others. And when he ran out of steam I told him. Told him all about my soul connection to Voldemort."

"What did he say?" Sirius asked, dreading the answer.

"Not a lot at first," Harry said. "He looked ill honestly. But he was determined we'd find a way. And in the meantime he decided to train me anyway. As he put it, 'I'll be damned, Potter, if I have to keep pulling your incompetent ass out of these scrapes you insist on getting into. You_ will_ learn to fend for yourself.'"

Sirius blinked and started to laugh. It was just so _Snape_ that he couldn't help it. Harry grinned at him. It was the first moment of real levity in the entire conversation. A desperately needed break.

"He did both," Harry said. "He trained me and eventually we found an answer."

"_Anima letum ritus_. The soul of the rites of death." Sirius had looked up the Latin finally.

"A ritual," Harry said. "Not just a spell. But an actual ritual built to do only one thing. Destroy soul connections. And kill the two who are connected."


	14. The Soul of the Rites of Death, Part 2

_Author's Notes: Merry Christmas. It's short - no surprise there - but heavy enough on content that I am exhausted from writing it._

_Though... it's amazing how easily this chapter flowed once I started writing it._

**Chapter 14: The Soul of the Rites of Death, Part 2**

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. And stared.

His fingers clenched and unclenched around his tea cup while his brain attempted to process Harry's words.

Finally, slowly, carefully, he stated the obvious. "But you're alive."

"Good of you to notice," Harry replied, smirking at him.

"Don't. Just... don't fuck with me, Harry. _How_?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't have a mastery in magical theory, Sirius. I have... _guesses_. Loose ideas at best. And most of those... I can't explain right off. You need to know the rest of the story."

Sirius gave him an impatient look.

Harry actually grinned. For some forsaken reason he had actually _relaxed_ with his confession.

Sirius growled, low in his throat.

"Alright, alright. I get the idea already," Harry held up his hands in defeat. "As you can imagine Severus threw a fit when I suggested using it. Said he hadn't been training me to see me throw my life away. Made me promise to never use it... luckily _that_ promise wasn't unbreakable. Though...I couldn't use it at any rate. Not at that time. It needed what I didn't have, eight spirit energy focus points. Specifically, eight spirits, eight dead people who... who loved me. Who loved me with enough strength to leave an echo of themselves behind."

Sirius scrunched his forehead up in thought. "Not... not to sound crass here, Harry. But... with all the people who had died... surely..."

Harry shook his head. "I thought about. Obsessed over it. I could only come up with seven names. Mum and Dad, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, Remus and... and you."

"Surely Molly..."

"Loved me like a son," Harry said in confirmation. "But enough to leave an echo? A piece of her own spirit left to wander the earth like a ghost for the singular purpose of watching out for me? No. Not that much. Not her, or Arthur or Professor McGonagall or Moody... Not one of the people who'd died loved me that much. And it only needed to be one."

Harry looked thoughtful. "Sometimes I wonder if he knew that..."

"Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing. Where was I? Things... grew steadily worse. Until one day Severus got caught while getting supplies. By Peter Pettigrew."

Sirius grew cold. "Peter?" he whispered.

"I still don't know what happened. How the hell _Wormtail_, of all people, got the drop on Severus. But he did. And Severus died. Just like everyone else."

Sirius swore. He could see it now, could see the shape of what must have happened. But it still didn't explain... "You used Severus as the eighth."

Harry grinned, all teeth. "See, that's the beauty of it. Severus didn't love me. Never had, never would. But... the ritual didn't specify _love_. Just a highly charged positive emotive connection. Strong enough to leave an echo. And Severus had dedicated his life to keeping me safe. Had sworn it to Mum, to Dumbledore. To me, even. Why would a little thing like death stop him?"

"Does that even count?" Sirius wondered out loud.

Harry shrugged. "It doesn't matter. It worked. I killed Pettigrew first –" Sirius shivered "- and then I went for Voldemort."

Sirius dropped his face into his hands and breathed. "Harry..." he murmured, strained. _Is he even sane anymore? Could anyone go through that and stay sane?_

Sirius looked up.

Right then, in that moment, Harry certainly didn't look it.

"And it _worked_ damnit," Harry was saying. "I _got_ him. Voldemort. I killed him with the damn connection and with the ritual."

Sirius eyed Harry carefully. There was something just a bit crazed in those green eyes. Something he'd never seen before.

"Those connections... There's a lot of power in human emotions, Sirius. I... took those echos inside myself. Combined them with myself, with my _soul_, and lashed out. That... I should have died then. I think... I think I almost did. But, you see, I'd promised Hermione."

"An Unbreakable," Sirius whispered.

"Exactly," Harry said. "All I've got at this point is conjecture but... I think... Normally if you do something counter to an unbreakable you lose your magic. But... what I had sworn had nothing to do with my magic. It was about my life. What I lost... what I lost was my chance at death."

Sirius swallowed. "Are you... can you...?"

Harry waved off his concern. "I'm pretty sure that I'll still die of old age at some point. But I can't be killed by anybody. Not even by myself. _Especially_ by myself."

_And you've tried, haven't you?_ Sirius couldn't bring himself to say it.

"Maybe... maybe this world's Voldemort?" Harry mused to himself.

"No!" Sirius shouted. Both his and Harry's teacups exploded.

Harry looked up, shocked out of his thoughts. Then he smiled. "Relax, Sirius. It probably wouldn't work anyway."

Sirius sat back down. _When did I stand?_

"Anyway," Harry said, still smiling, "I'm told that in the moment Voldemort died – _my_ Voldemort, obviously – a backlash of magic got sent through the Dark Mark to all of his Death Eaters. It didn't kill them, but it was strong enough that it magically crippled most of them. In one moment they were reduced to little more than squibs."

Sirius shook his head, his mind reeling.

"There were consequences of course. My world still isn't over the losses. But... I was in no shape to help. Everything that had happened... and the consequences of the ritual, of course."

"Consequences?" Sirius asked, unsure how much more he could take in.

Harry beamed at him. "Of course. I'd taken in _pieces_ of eight people. Literally sucked in left over bits of other people's dead souls into my own. They... are still there I think. Part of me. Indistinguishable really."

_I really am going to be sick._ "Is that why you're..." Sirius trailed off, not sure how to put it.

Harry laughed. Actually _laughed_.

"Oh no. I'm pretty sure I'm fucked up for my own perfectly valid reasons. Ritual or no."

Sirius stared.

_How the hell am I going to explain this to the Order?_

Then a second thought hit him, causing his stomach to churn.

_How am I going to tell James and Lily?_


	15. A whole lot worse

_Author's Notes: I agonized over this chapter. Over that all important question. And I still don't know if I got it right._

...

**Chapter 15: A whole lot worse**

Sirius could still remember, quite clearly, the day James told him Lily was pregnant.

It hadn't been what he'd expected at all. If someone had asked him, before that day, what James would have been like upon finding out he was going to be a father he would have said ecstatic. James would jump for joy, would scream it out to the world. Or maybe he'd faint from the shock of it, be a total pansy.

But instead James had come by his house, all quiet and thoughtful and had pulled two beers out of the fridge. Handing one to Sirius, he'd taken a sip of his own. Then he'd said it, like they were talking about someone else entirely: "So, Lily's pregnant."

And then he'd smiled. And Sirius had never, in all the years he'd known James, seen his best friend look so content. So utterly at peace with the world.

It had taken a moment to sink in. But when it had Sirius had grinned and laughed like a loon. _He'd_ been the one who'd screamed for joy, who'd thumped James on the back and done ridiculous little twirling dances around his apartment kitchen.

"When? Boy or girl?" Sirius hadn't been able to get the questions out fast enough.

James had been grinning like a mad man himself by that point. "Late July, maybe early August. And we don't know yet. But if it's a boy I want to name him Harry."

This had thrown Sirius for a bit of a loop. He couldn't think of anyone in either James' or Lily's families named Harry. "Harry? Why Harry?"

James had shaken his head. "Don't know really. Just always been a bit partial to the name."

"Harry Potter," Sirius had parroted, trying out the syllables for the first time. Testing the taste of them in his mouth. "Lily agreed to that yet?"

James shook his head. "Haven't told her yet. Might not matter if it's a girl."

"It'll be a boy," Sirius had said, abruptly certain.

James had just kept grinning. "You're going to be the godfather, you know. Boy or girl."

And Sirius had stopped in complete shock. "What? Me?"

"Yes, you," James had said. "Who better you stupid mutt?"

Things had only degenerated from there. But Sirius could remember it all. Each and every moment of that day. How the war just didn't matter in the face of James' news. How utterly and completely beautiful Lily had looked. How Remus, upon hearing, had gotten this silly little grin on his face. How Peter...

Peter... that was a thought for another time.

For later.

For _after_ he'd talked to James.

And he had to talk to James. Had to do it _now_, before the Order meeting.

Should he talk to James alone? Or should he try to find Lily too?

And... _God, __**Lily**_... how was she going to handle this?

He'd thought about telling them about Harry before. When he'd first found out about him... well, about him _being_ Harry.

Had thought about it and dismissed it, because he wanted to give Harry a chance to do it himself. He had wanted, badly, to give this new, strange Harry the opportunity to know the people who could have been his parents without anyone getting in the way.

But it wasn't an option any more. James _had_ to know. Sirius had to tell him before James found out the rest of it. Because if James found out all the bad parts, all the horror and all the stuff that Sirius had spent a full hour in the bathroom retching up his guts over... if he found that out _before_ he found that Harry was his son...

Not that it was going to be any better to find out after. But he owed it to James. Years of friendship demanded absolutely no less.

Sirius licked his lips nervously, threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire.

"Godric's Hallow!" he called out.

Sticking his head into the fire – in more than one sense – Sirius said a silent, fervent prayer that this went well.

His view upon poking his head through was of the living room of Godric's Hallow. The empty living room. "Anyone-" he cleared his throat, and pitched his voice a little louder. "Anyone home?"

"Sirius?" James' voice called back. His body followed through one of the doors. "Hey, Pads. What's ..." James frowned, apparently catching the expression on Sirius' face. "Sirius? What's wrong? Did something happen?"

Sirius tried his best to smile at him. "Nothing happened. Just... listen can you come through for a bit?"

"Sure," James replied, obviously concerned. "Let me tell Lily where I'm going."

"Alright. See you in a minute."

Sirius pulled back out, cursing himself for a coward. He should have told James to bring Lily with him.

Still could, technically, but...

Sirius wasn't a man who was very aware of his limits. But he knew this was one of them. James first. Then the _two_ of them could think about what to say to Lily.

The floo flared to life.

"That was quick," Sirius commented as James brushed off a few ashes.

"It seemed important."

"It is," Sirius murmured. "Want a drink?"

James eyed him carefully. "Alright."

Sirius walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky and two glasses.

James raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, merely taking his own glass in hand.

"There's an executive Order meeting tonight," Sirius said after a moment. "I'm going to be telling everyone about... about some things I've learned about Plack."

"Plack?" James repeated, stiffening. "Sirius? Is something wrong? Is he okay?"

Sirius smiled at the reaction. "You feel it, too, huh?"

"What?" James asked, confused.

"The need to protect him. The feeling that –"

"That he's important," James murmured. "So it's not just me and Lily."

Sirius shook his head. "I'd say that Remus is feeling it too. Probably Albus as well."

"_Why?_" James asked. "We barely know him."

"Because he _is_ important to us. Or at least... to the people we could have been."

"You aren't making any sense."

Sirius ran his fingers through his hair and laughed. "Guess I'm not." He paced across the room. "Did you know that each of us only has one soul? That there is only one soul for the person named Sirius Black? Even if there are millions of 'me' out there in alternate dimensions or whatever, that they are all still... well, still me?"

James chuckled uncomfortably. "Been hitting the theory stacks?"

Sirius gave him a _look_.

"Okay, okay," James said. "One soul for you and for all those other dimensional Sirius Black's out there. Got it."

"For anyone," Sirius said. "For me, or you, or Lily..." he took a breath. "For Harry."

James shifted a little. "This is about Plack?"

"No," Sirius said, "and yes. It's about _Harry_. Our Harry. Your Harry. Damnit, James. _This is about your son._"

"My..." James laid down his drink, taking a deep breath. "Sirius, that isn't funny." James shook his head. "What are you talking about? _What about Harry?_"

"You said you were always partial to that name," Sirius said in response. "I guess that was true in other dimensions too."

"You... you mean that... Plack.. Harry is..." James sat down. Hard. "Can't be," he murmured. "He couldn't possibly be..."

"Have you _looked_ at him at lately? He's the spitting image of you, except -"

"Except he has Lily's eyes," James murmured. "Why didn't we notice?"

Sirius sighed. "Harry would do a better job of explaining that than me. Something to do with a spell on him. A notice-me not, or a seriously complex variation on it. Apparently he's famous where he comes from."

James nodded his expression dazed. "Why didn't he... why didn't he tell us? Tell me? And... and Lily?"

"I don't know," Sirius admitted. "But if I had to guess, I'd say he's been pretty unsure of himself. You... the both of you died when he was just a baby."

James closed his eyes. "He grew up without us."

"He says... he says that he's not _our_ Harry. That he can't be," Sirius murmured. "But..." Sirius shook his head. "I wanted to let him tell you on his own time, but you needed to know. Now. Before the meeting."

"Why?" James murmured, still deep in shock.

"Because it gets worse. A whole lot worse."

James took a moment to compose himself before grabbing his drink and downing the whole thing.

"Tell me."


	16. Tell Us

_*EDIT* I previously had a long winded author's note up here. It was a purely emotional reaction to a negative review and has been removed. Thank you._

_Proper Author's Note: Welcome to the long awaited Chapter 16. I know there isn't as much of individual reactions here as you would like, but you'll get more of that next chapter. Enjoy!_

**Chapter 16: Tell us**

Sirius shook his head. "I can't. It's... too much and too complicated and I have to tell Albus and the rest. And I can't possibly say it all twice."

"Okay," James said. "What _can_ you tell me?"

"That it's bad. And that I'm really, really worried about how Lily will react. About how _you_ will react."

James poured himself another glass of Firewhisky. "How bad is _bad_?"

Sirius took a sip of his own drink and avoided eye contact.

"Ah," James said. "Alright."

"James... he's suicidal," Sirius said. "Or he was. He's definitely not...not right in the head. And I can understand why after what he's told me. It would crack anyone. He's lost _everything_."

"And now he has us," James murmured.

"I don't think he knows that," Sirius replied.

James seemed to consider that for a moment. "Then we have to let him know."

Sirius sighed. "You make it sound so easy."

"It _is_ that easy," James insisted.

"James," Sirius muttered, "do you remember what I was like? What _Remus_ was like? How long it took to convince us that you weren't... that you wouldn't betray us or disappear?"

"You were abused," James said. "And Remus is a werewolf."

"And Harry is depressed and suicidal and Merlin knows what else," Sirius countered. "Look, it's not that I don't agree with you, but it's not going to be _easy_."

James put down his glass with a click and stood up. "I don't mind hard."

"You are going to have to give Plack time. _Lily_ is going to have to give him time."

"Let me worry about Lily," James said, reaching for the floo powder.

"He's not your son, Prongs," Sirius said, having to be sure that James understood that.

James laughed at him. "Maybe not yet."

Then he disappeared through the Floo.

. . . . .

Lily was staring at Harry.

"You told," Harry said in an undertone to Sirius, shifting from foot to foot.

"I had to," Sirius replied. "Would you rather they found out now? Along with everything else?"

Remus, who was sitting next to Lily and James, was also staring at Harry.

"Moony too?" Harry asked, almost whining.

"Er... no actually. James must have told him."

Harry sighed deeply. "Can't be helped. When does this thing start?"

Sirius almost laughed. "You won't be able to avoid them forever."

"I can try," Harry muttered petulantly.

"You should just talk to them," Sirius insisted.

"... Later," Harry said. "And... when I do, will you be there?"

Sirius blinked. "If you need me there."

Harry said nothing in return, effectively ending the conversation.

Sirius let his gaze wander around the room. Molly and Arthur were settled in a love seat, while Albus had taken one of the chairs. Minerva, meanwhile, had sat herself primly on a chair taken from the kitchen.

Moody and Snape each stood looming in their respective corners.

"Frank and Alice are attending to other Order business tonight and won't be joining us," Albus said serenely. "And young Harry here has requested to join us for the evening. I believe he wishes to speak with us."

Harry took a deep breath.

"I... for those of you who don't know already, my full name is Harry James Potter. My parents... my parents were James and Lily Potter."

Sirius watched the reactions with interest. Lily had closed her eyes briefly while James just grimly smiled to himself. Remus looked very much like he wanted to jump up but was just barely holding himself back.

Molly, Arthur, Minerva and Moody were all in various states of shock though Moody was doing a good job of hiding it.

Albus, damn him, looked completely unsurprised. _Hell, he probably had it figured out ages ago._

Then Sirius managed to catch Snape's gaze.

Snape's far too knowing and self-satisfied gaze.

"You knew!" Sirius accused, glaring at Snape. "You knew and you didn't say?"

Snape sneered back. "Of course I knew. Mr. _Potter_," and here his voice turned into a drawl, "is absolutely pathetic at occulmency. Though his mind is very nearly broken enough for that not to matter," Snape spoke quickly over Sirius' angry objections, "I, of course, informed Albus. I was not aware of any obligation to inform anyone else."

Sirius' opened and closed his mouth several times, frantically searching his mind for something to say. A hand on his shoulder pulled him back and kept him from saying anything.

"Harry?" Sirius murmured, but Harry wasn't looking at him.

"Thank you, Severus," Harry said to Snape, keeping his hand on Sirius' shoulder.

Snape rose an eyebrow and gave an ironic little bow.

Sirius let Harry pull him away from the confrontation.

Silence reigned for a moment.

"Sirius," Harry murmured quietly, "could you start? You said you'd tell them for me."

Yes. He had, hadn't he? He'd promised Harry that he'd explain everything to the Order.

Except...he didn't know how to put it all into words that would make any sense. But he didn't say that. "Right, yeah. Okay. You go... read or something. I'll get you when I'm done."

Harry shook his head. "I can't say it all again. But I think I can just... _be_ here."

Sirius frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Sirius nodded.

Moody snorted. "Now that all the emotional stuff is settled can you just _tell us_ already?"

So Sirius did.

...

Silence has a way of being louder and more invasive than any noise could ever be. Sirius bit his lip, nervously waiting for reactions.

Moody was pacing, something he had started doing early on in the story, his hands clenching and unclenching in his only outward sign of emotion. Molly had a stricken expression that was mirrored by Arthur. Minerva was glaring fixedly at spot on the ceiling, her mouth a thin line.

Albus had at some point taken his glasses off and laid them on the table next to his chair. His face was in his hands, his shoulders slouched.

Remus kept making abrupt aborted movements in Harry's general direction. Like he wanted to hug him, or maybe hide him somewhere.

Lily was crying silent tears and gripping onto James for dear life, while James himself was staring fixedly at Harry.

Who was pointedly not looking back. Or at anything but his own feet.

Snape -

"Impossible!" Snape snapped suddenly, his expression indignant.

Lily jumped and James actually growled.

"What's the matter, Snape? Doubting your own part in this?" Moody snarled.

"Hardly, or otherwise I wouldn't -" He broke off abruptly, rolling his eyes. "I merely meant the bit about Mr. Potter being kept alive by an Unbreakable Vow. Utterly preposterous. Unbreakable Vows do not work like that or else every Dark Lord in history would have simply sworn not to die!"

"Just a theory," Harry murmured quietly. "Never said I knew for sure."

"Not actually a bad one, my boy," Albus replied, finally putting his glasses back on. "Though, given the circumstances I would say that it was more likely the combination of your promise and the will of your... spiritual loved ones which kept you amongst the living. I doubt that _any_ of the people you called upon in the ritual would have wished to see you die from it."

"Speak for yourself," Snape muttered. Sirius glared.

Harry shrugged. "Don't suppose it really matters."

This was enough to cause Remus to snap. "Of course it matters! You can't possibly..." Remus trailed off, looking devastated at Harry's lack of expression.

"Remus," James muttered, drawing Remus' attention and shaking his head slightly. Remus backed off.

James took a deep breath, tightening his hold around Lily. "Why now, Harry? Why tell us all this now when you kept silent before?"

Harry, Sirius noted, finally looked up and met James' – _his father's_ – eyes.

"Because I made a promise when I got here. That I wouldn't hurt anyone working against Voldemort though action or _inaction_. And I was getting close to breaking that promise. But to understand what I'm about to say, you needed to understand everything else."

"Tell us," Lily said, the first words she had spoken all evening. "Please, Harry, tell us."

Harry hesitated. "It's... not going to be nice. It's horrifying actually. Especially for you and James."

Lily straightened, her old Gryffindor steel shining in her eyes for the first time in ages. "Tell us anyway."

"I may know a way to kill Voldemort," Harry said.

Everyone froze and focused their complete attention on Harry.

"It's not good... and it might not work, but..."

"Oh, just get on with it!" Moody grumbled.

"Sirius told me how Harry – the other Harry – died," Harry glanced apologetically at James and Lily. "But he shouldn't have. Voldemort shouldn't have been able to just... kill him like that, even if he wasn't born yet. They were soul mates, just like myself and the Voldemort in my universe."

James swallowed. "What are you saying?"

"Voldemort spent years as a spirit. I think the same thing happened to baby Harry."

"Oh God," Lily said. "_Oh my_ _God_."

"What," Albus said very quietly, "makes you think that?"

"The vision I had," Harry replied. "My connection with Voldemort is snapped. But the one that baby Harry had still seems to exist or else Voldemort wouldn't be alive. And I'm connected to baby Harry. We each have a piece of the same soul."

"The Crucio?" Sirius asked weakly.

Harry winced. "You don't want to know."

"Yes, we do," James said strongly.

"It's... likely that Harry's spirit is following Voldemort around because of the connection. If... if he tried to help one of Voldemort's victims..."

No one moved or so much as breathed for a moment.

Then someone let loose a horrible keening sound.

Sirius couldn't work out who it was. He was too busy trying to keep down his lunch.

When he got himself back together James had buried his head in Lily's hair.

"Keep going," Lily said.

"We need to break the connection between Voldemort and baby Harry. If we can do that Voldemort is killable again."

"How?" Sirius demanded.

"I... think it may be possible to... merge myself and baby Harry. We share a soul already. Connecting our spirits together in the one body should be... well, not easy. But doable. And then..." Harry took a deep breath. "Do you know what a Dementor's Kiss does exactly?"

Remus replied automatically. "It sucks the soul out of... wait, no. That can't be right. Not with all the other things Sirius said about souls and connections."

Albus' eyes lit up. "No, of course not. A simple Dementor could not possibly destroy an entire soul. Not when it stretches across universes."

"Then what does it do?" Arthur asked.

"It cuts off the piece that resides in this universe and eats it," Harry replied. "Like... like snapping off a bit of a chocolate bar."

"That's terrible!" Molly objected.

"Better than destroying the whole thing," Harry replied.

"I think, Mr. Potter, that you are a rather morbid young man," Minerva stated quietly. "How does this help?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Plack?" Sirius asked.

Harry fixed his gaze on Sirius. "Well, once I, um, _bonded_ with baby Harry we could... I mean, I could get... Kissed by a Dementor. It would break the piece of the connection that exists in this universe. Then you could take down Voldemort."

The silence was terrible.

"Unless one of you knows how to make a Dementor kiss _Voldemort_ instead."


	17. White Noise

_Author's Notes: Er, hi? Just a little update for you. A very little one. Don't hate me?_

_Was having issues with the tenses here. I've been writing a lot in present tense but this story is all past tense (or should be). I got a few things mixed up here I think. Tried to fix it as best I could._

**Chapter 17: White Noise**

The world exploded.

Or at least that's how it seemed to Sirius. The abrupt canopy of _noise_ erupted like a Bombarda Maxima in the middle of a hallway.

He was sure that there was screaming. Voices, loud, fast, high pitched. One that rumbled in low discontent, another that screeched, flying up to the rafters, and many others in between, all of them angry or upset or _something_.

But it was all so much white noise to Sirius.

He took a long deep breath and closed his eyes. Willed himself to somehow remain calm. He _had_ to be calm. Had to control the bubbling hysteria that was threatening to take over. Because _Harry needed him to be calm._

He wasn't doing a very good job.

Around him the canopy of yelling continued but Sirius paid it no mind, gripping his hands into fists so tight that he could feel his nails puncturing the skin.

_That_ was something he could focus on. Physical pain was... well, not good, but definitely useful. More useful certainly than the burning ball of emotion that was rolling in his stomach currently.

He breathed again. Long, deep breaths. In and out. In... out... and –

His eyes snapped open. He immediately zeroed in on Harry.

Harry... who was standing there, accosted by a storm of words, but who looked completely calm and centered. Who wasn't taking in a _single damn thing_ being thrown at him.

"Bollocks to this," Sirius muttered under his breath.

He was already standing so close that it only took a single step to bring him into range. He drew back his hand without even realizing he was doing it.

SMACK!

The impact of his hand on Harry's cheek was _loud_.

Everything stopped.

Except Harry.

"Jesus fuck!" Harry swore backing up and glaring at Sirius. "What the hell Sirius?"

Albus' voice drifted over to him. Sirius could practically _hear_ the frown. "I'm certain that was not necessary –"

"Shut up!" Sirius snapped, not even turning to look at him. To look at any of them. Only Harry mattered now.

But Harry was getting over his shock, tension stiffening his shoulders even further and his hand gripping his wand tightly.

_Ready to defend himself... against me._ The thought was mournful but Sirius pushed it to the side.

"No," he said forcefully. "You don't get to do that. _You don't get to sacrifice yourself for this_."

Harry snorted. "Got a better option for getting rid of Voldemort then?"

"Harry- " James' voice. Sirius held up a hand to silence him. James trailed off.

"No, I wish to hell I did, but I don't. It doesn't matter. It changes shit all, Harry. _I won't let you_."

Harry raised an eyebrow, looking contemptuous, and so utterly like Snape that Sirius had to bite down on the insides of his cheek. "And why should that mean anything? This isn't about you. It's about Voldemort."

"LIKE HELL IT IS!" Sirius screamed, his voice catching in his throat. "This, _this_, is about you and your Merlin forsaken _death wish_."

Something flickered in Harry's eyes for just a moment before he shut it down into an impassive expression.

"And what if it is?" he asked lightly. "What does it matter? You get your solution to your Voldemort issue and I get a solution to _my_ problem."

"Yet you don't actually wish to die, Potter." Sirius swirled around to stare at Snape at this declaration, but Snape was looking at Harry. "If you really, truly did you would be dead. So called 'unbreakable' vows or no."

And Sirius _gets_ it. Was he an Auror or not? He'd _seen_ this before in the older aurors. Or the ones who'd lost a partner recently.

"Survivor's guilt," Lily's voice came as a soft brush of air. "Oh _Harry_, I know," she took several extremely cautious steps towards him, tentatively raising her arms to embrace him. "I _know_. I've been there. You ask yourself over and over 'why them? Why not _me_? But it's okay. _It's not your fault._"

Harry stepped back from Lily's outstretched arms, and looked directly at Sirius. "Why do you even care?"

Sirius swallowed. "Because I'm your godfather."

Harry looked at his eyes, seemed to gaze _into_ him. A moment suspended in time.

And then he shook his head. "No, you're not."

Harry turned, a little half step, Disappariting with a crack.

And chaos reigned again.


	18. It's for Harry

_Author's Notes: Sometimes I don't know why I bother..._

_I think I hate this chapter._

**Chapter 18: It's for Harry**

His hand was stinging.

Sirius blinked, glanced down at the offending appendage and frowned.

Reset.

Try again.

His hand was stinging and Harry was gone.

Almost there. Not quite enough.

His hand was stinging and Harry was gone and _he had no idea where he went_.

_What is he thinking? Where did he go? How am I supposed to find him? Wh-_

"Albus!" Moody growled, "I thought you put spells on the boy to prevent that! Where the hell has he gone?"

"And how did he _do_ that?" Molly demanded. "He just apparated through the wards!"

"The wards don't stop the rightful Lord Black from apparating in and out at will," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Just everyone else."

"That again," James murmured, worry tainting his voice. "The Lord Black thing."

"We have to find him," Lily said forcefully. "We _have_ to."

"Where do we look?" Remus asked. "Where do we even start?"

Sirius shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to _think_.

"_Albus!_" Moody snapped. "_What happened to your spells?_" It was the ex-auror's anger that finally focused the group.

Minerva's thin-lipped frown, Arthur and Molly's worry, Remus' edginess, James' concern and Lily's fierce focus all found common ground in the Headmaster's apparent failure.

Even Snape looked vaguely curious.

Albus actually managed to appear faintly guilty. "I... may not have taken as much care with them as I ought. Knowing who he was I was understandably reluctant to place any magical restraints on him. And given the somewhat... wild nature of Harry's magic he may have broken them. Or else they never took properly in the first place."

Moody cursed. "I _knew_ he agreed too easily!"

Sirius found he didn't care. He just wanted to know where Harry was. "How?" he asked. "How do we find him?"

"I really don't know," Albus admitted. "We may simply have to wait for him to come back of his own accord."

Snape snorted. "Oh yes, because _that_ is a brilliant idea. Do I really need to remind you of what I told you earlier, Albus?"

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "What did he tell you?"

"Albus?" Minerva prompted.

"Ahh, yes. Well, it seems that Tom has been made aware of Harry's presence here."

"Wait," Remus said. "You mean that _Voldemort_ knows about Harry?"

"For some time now apparently," Albus replied.

...

_Shit._

...

"Then we need to find him _now_," James demanded. "Send people out searching!"

"And bring it to Voldemort's attention that Potter is missing?" Snape replied scathingly. "And where would you start? Potter is not from this world. He has no connections, no family, no friends. No common 'hang outs.' He could have quite literally gone anywhere."

"He has friends," Sirius found himself saying.

All attention snapped to him.

"Hermione Granger and your boy Ron," Sirius said with a nod towards Arthur.

"We'll go check with Ron and Hermione right away," Arthur replied.

"Please do," Albus said. "But try not to alarm them."

Arthur replied with a sharp nod. The red haired couple were quickly gone.

"Where else, Sirius?" Remus asked. "Think! Where else would he possibly go?"

Sirius closed his eyes, trying to bring to mind everything he'd learned about Harry. "Hogwarts. He said that it's the closest thing he's ever had to a home."

"Minerva-" Albus began, but she was already getting up.

"Try the Qudditch Pitch," James said. "He's a seeker."

"And the Gryffindor dorms," Lily added. James looked at her curiously. Lily raised an eyebrow up at him. "What? He's _your_ son. Don't tell me he doesn't have ways into the castle."

James' face nearly quirked up into a smile.

"Hufflepuff too," Sirius added quickly. _Damn I wish we still had the map..._

Minerva paused in mid-motion of throwing some Floo Powder into the fire. "_Hufflepuff_?" she asked incredulously.

"Bit of an inside joke," Sirius said with a shrug.

Minerva shook her head before finishing her earlier motion and calling her destination.

The Deputy Headmistress disappeared into the green flames.

"Since it seems like the party is leaving I'm going to go make a few subtle inquiries with some old acquaintances," Moody informed them, pulling out a piece of string that was most likely a port-key. "Make sure he isn't in some of the less... reputable parts around London."

"Remus," James said, once Moody had left. "Would you – could you – go check on Peter... Just... be careful, alright? Don't let him know what's happening."

"On Peter?" Remus asked. "Do you really think..."

"Harry isn't exactly fond of him," James admitted reluctantly. And then, even more reluctantly, "And Voldemort knows about Harry. He had to have found that out somehow."

Sirius winced. He'd forgotten about Peter. Was he... was he like the Wormtail from Harry's dimension?

Was he a traitor?

Sirius really, really hoped not.

Remus' face echoed his own distaste for the necessity, but he went.

_And then there were five,_ Sirius thought to himself.

"James, Lily," Albus said gently, "perhaps you should head home? Harry may not have grown up there but he may yet feel some connection to Godric's Hallow."

James' looked like he was about to argue but Lily shook her head at him. "It's probably the best thing we can do James."

James growled in frustration but let Lily lead him out the door so they could Apparate home.

Albus turned his gaze to Snape.

"I suppose you wish for me to go insinuate myself amongst my fellow Death Eaters to ensure that there are no leads there."

"If you would, Severus."

_And now down to two._

"Sirius –" Albus began.

"You want me to stay here," Sirius said blankly. "You want me to stay here, in _this_ house, in case he comes back."

"It would really be for the best. I myself am heading to the Ministry to make some inquiries of my own. Perhaps Harry's Apparation can be traced."

"Damn you, Albus."

"Will you stay?"

"Don't exactly have much of a choice, do I?"

"Sirius –"

Sirius held up his hands to forestall argument. "Yeah, I'll stay."

"_Sirius_ -"

"Dammit, Albus! I said I'll stay! It's for Harry isn't it?"

"Yes," the elderly wizard said quietly. "It is."


	19. Say Hello

_Author's Notes: Seriously guys? His bedroom? Really? This is __**Harry**__ we're talking about. My Harry may be pretty far removed from canon but he wouldn't be Harry if his response wasn't to do something ridiculous. Honestly... his bedroom..._

**Chapter 19: Say hello**

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Ancient. Dark. Damp. _Depressing_.

It was a house full of bad memories and worse magic.

And yet...

It had almost started feeling like _home_ lately. With the cleaning and the Order but most of all _Harry_, Sirius could almost tuck away his childhood feelings.

Almost.

But now it all crashed in around his head again.

Sirius wandered listlessly from room to room letting his fingers trail along the wall. He _hated_ this. Hated feeling useless. Hated having nothing better to do than wait.

Hated this god damned house and the prison it had always been and apparently still was.

It was suffocating.

But Sirius had said he'd stay. And he _would._ He would stay because this was somehow his and Harry's home now and Harry might come back.

He tried to ignore the guilt. _He_ was the reason Harry had left.

Sirius didn't exactly regret what he'd said – _screamed_ – nor did he really regret slapping Harry.

But guilt? Yeah, he definitely felt that.

Harry was just so... impossible. Up and down and all over the place and how the hell was Sirius supposed to deal with that?

How was he supposed to help someone who didn't give a rat's ass about their own life?

Not that Sirius could blame Harry for it. Harry had been through hell and hadn't yet made it out the other side.

Though... what Snape had said about Harry not really wanting to die? Was that possible? Was there hope?

Sirius desperately wanted that. Even if meant _Snape_ being right.

Sirius sighed and roughly shook his head. This wasn't helping. He needed to _do_ something. Anything.

He found himself turning towards the library where he knew the pile of books Harry had been looking at still lay.

He entered the room and sighed.

They'd talked about Harry here. About little, baby Harry.

_Harry thinks he's still... out there somewhere. A spirit just... drifting around. Still attached to Voldemort._

That was... depressing. And horrifying. What did it mean? What kind of state would that leave little Harry in? Had he grown? Learned?

Sirius idly started putting the books away, lost in his own thoughts.

_Is he __**aware**__? _Sirius thought suddenly. _Is he conscious of everything that's happened to him?_

A shudder racked through him. He hoped not. That would be...

Sirius shook off the thought.

And Harry – _Plack_ – wanted to... what? Merge with little Harry? How the hell was that supposed to work?

Could he actually do it?

_And what the hell will that do to the both of them? Is it even... if little Harry is still 'alive' in some way... is it really __**right**__ for Harry to do that? And the Dementor's Kiss... _

He hadn't been thinking about that earlier. About right and wrong and all the things that could go horribly awry. All he'd realized was that Harry was blithely talking about his own destruction. Not even simply his own death, but _literally_ the destruction of a piece of his soul.

And he'd been making that decision for both himself and baby Harry.

_What gives him the bloody right?_ Sirius thought with a sudden fit of anger, slamming another book into place. _What the HELL is he thinking?_

He'd thought they'd connected when they had talked in here. That they'd understood each other. That Plack had realized that Sirius _cared_.

And meanwhile he'd been thinking about...

Sirius froze.

How long had Harry been thinking about this?

Sirius had assumed Harry had been curious about what had happened with Lily and baby Harry. But Harry had given him that bloody, uncaring, _ambiguous_ answer. _'Something like that.'_

And he'd said it with a grin and Sirius, as always, hadn't thought a thing about it. _You never bloody __**think**__, do you Padfoot? Just keep marching along like everything is fine!_

Sirius growled and picked up the next book.

_Famous Wizard Resting Places_ by Placido Mort.

Sirius frowned.

Had Harry wanted to know where his other self had been buried?

Why would he...

Oh.

_Oh!_

He knew where Harry was.

...

It was a dark night but Sirius didn't dare light his wand. He had absolute no idea what sort of state he might find Harry in, but he also didn't want to risk him disappearing again.

So lightless it was.

But that actually didn't matter too much. Sirius was intimately familiar with the graveyard by Godric's Hallow, and even more familiar with the path to his destination.

He absently flicked his wand at his feet, whispering a spell to silence the noise his walking made. Then he let memory and the small wisps of light escaping around the clouds guide him.

It didn't take long. Just a short, familiar walk and there he was.

The relief he felt released only some of the tension in his shoulders. _He's alive. He's okay. It's okay now._

Sirius wished he could believe that.

Harry stood perfectly still before the grave (_Harry's grave_ Sirius' mind whispered). But his attention was completely focused on a glowing white mist that curled in and around itself just above the gravestone.

Sirius stopped ten paces away from where Harry stood.

"Did you know, Padfoot? I spent the last four years studying soul magic."

Sirius valiantly didn't jump at being addressed. "Did you learn anything?"

Harry twisted just enough for Sirius to see his grin. "Lots. I didn't really have anything else to occupy me, so I threw myself into studying. Soul magic lead into rituals, blood magic, necromancy -"

"The Dark Arts," Sirius murmured.

Harry's grin widened. "That too, though to be honest I'm pretty crap at it. You really have to want to _hurt_ people and I . . . well, I just didn't care anymore."

He turned back to the circling white mist. "But soul magic, that was the main thing. I think I was trying to bury myself in knowledge. Bury the memories and the emptiness."

Sirius took two steps forward. "What is that, Plack?"

"This?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the mist. "This is baby Harry. Say hello to your godson Sirius."

Sirius swallowed and tried not to faint.

"No?" Harry asked his voice still pleasant. "Too bad, I think you'd like him."

"What did you do?" Sirius half-whispered.

"Nothing much," Harry said with a shrug. "Just a small summoning ritual."

That's when Sirius noticed the blood. It swirled around the grave in strange patterns and ancient looking script that Sirius couldn't even begin to identify.

And it dripped freely from Harry's arm.

"Sweet Merlin..." Sirius muttered, sickened. _Is that all his? How is he still standing?_

"The _real_ question," Harry said contemplatively, ignoring Sirius' distress, "is what I'm going to do next."

"And what are you going to do next?" Sirius asked carefully.

"Good question. I don't know yet. He kind of surprised me."

"He?" Sirius asked.

"Little Harry," Harry replied, once again gesturing at the mist. "I wasn't expecting him to be so... pure. I mean, we share a soul. I_ know_ I'm not that pure."

"Maybe it's a bit more complicated than that," Sirius offered uncertainly. "Maybe his purity has nothing to do with yours. Or maybe you're more pure than you think."

Harry laughed. "You really have no clue what you are talking about, do you?"

"Not even a little," Sirius admitted shamelessly. "Is that... is he really..."

When Harry spoke Sirius could practically hear the smile. "Yes, it really is your godson, Pads."

"Right," he muttered.

Right then.

_What now?_


	20. That was really stupid

_Author's Notes: Yes, yes, I know. "It's too short!" "How can you leave it there?"_

_*sighs* Bear with me, please? This isn't actually very easy to write. And you can expect a longer wait on the next chapter. It's going to be hellish to put into words. On the plus side it'll probably be a decent length._

**Chapter 20: That was really stupid**

Sirius spared a moment to just look back and forth between Harry and the... spirit? Ghost? Then he made a decision.

He walked forward and trailed his fingers along the edge of the mist that was supposedly little Harry.

The reaction was instantaneous; the mist (_spirit_) glowed a little brighter and – there was no other way to put it – curled around his fingers in greeting.

A smile formed as Sirius' felt a brush of warmth and a sense of . . . giggling? Little Harry was happy to meet him. And when the spirit twirled around itself flashing with quick bursts of light Sirius actually found himself laughing.

Pure, Harry had said. _Innocent_, Sirius thought. And that was incredible.

He turned his gaze to back to the living – no, _older_ Harry, and grinned widely.

"You were the kind of child who'd stick a fork into a socket just to find out what'd happen, weren't you?" Harry said, shaking his head. "That was really stupid, Padfoot. You had no _idea_ what could happen."

Sirius blinked, not getting the reference at all, and then shrugged. "You'd never hurt me. Not intentionally. And, basically, you two are the same person."

Harry gapped at him for a moment before scowling. "_He's_ not a person. He's a bloody puppy. All instinct and intelligence with no real mind. He's not selfaware."

Sirius swallowed down his initial angry retort, settling for narrowing his eyes in a glare. "And that pisses you off does it?"

"It _complicates_ things!" Harry snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Damnit. I thought I'd find a _spirit_. A being that had suffered through years of wandering around. Something that would be _tainted_ by its connection to Voldemort, a person who'd want it all to be _done with_. Not," he waved a desperate hand in Little Harry's direction, "not _this_."

It took Sirius a moment to pinpoint exactly what Harry was rambling about. "You're... having an ethical problem with your plan?"

Harry scowled again. "I may be crazy but I'm not a bloody monster."

"You aren't crazy," Sirius said, not entirely sure he believed himself.

Harry laughed, abruptly relaxed and calm again. "Oh come on, Padfoot. We _both_ know I'm batshit insane."

Sirius opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. _What are you supposed to say to something like that?_

Little Harry choose that moment to amble his way over to Harry, spinning a lazy circle around his waist.

Harry looked down and sighed. "Jeez. He's more soul than spirit... I should have realized. Should have _thought_. He wasn't even born yet... What am I supposed to _do_ with this?"

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked. "'More soul than spirit?'"

"Exactly what I said," Harry explained with explaining anything at all.

"Which _means_?" Sirius prompted. "Aren't they the same thing?"

"Not at all," Harry said. "Spirits are an amalgamation of all the things that make you, _you_. Body, mind, soul. But also memories. And experiences. They're... an imprint I guess. A person's sense of self. The thing that makes _me_ different from all those other Harry James Potters out there. The existence of spirits are why we can get ghosts. Souls are... bigger. More eternal. Less... distinct."

Sirius could practically feel his brain crack. "I... what?"

Harry snorted. "Don't worry about it too much, Padfoot. Basically, it means that little Harry here doesn't really have a personality. No sense of self. He wasn't... around long enough to develop one."

"So your plan?" Sirius asked tentatively.

"Is so much useless shit," Harry replied. "I can't merge with him if he can't agree to it."

_Can't or won't?_ Sirius thought. He kept the question to himself.

"Argh!" Harry exclaimed in disgust, flopping to the ground and letting his back lean against the headstone. "What the _hell_ do I do now?"

Sirius frowned thoughtfully, his gaze resting on Little Harry who'd taken to making long loops between the two of them.

He was beautiful. A soft glowing vapour that emitted a sense of warmth and welcome. Pure white light...

Wait, no. Not entirely.

Sirius frowned. "What is that?" he asked.

"What's what?" Harry asked distractedly.

"The black... goo," Sirius said, reaching forward unconsciously.

"Goo?" Harry snapped to attention. "Shit! _Don't touch that!_"

Too late.

It was like being hit with a _Crucio_. A spasm ran through his bloody and Sirius _screamed_.

He could dimly hear Harry calling his name, but then it was lost behind the wall of _painpainpain_.

Worse though, much, much worse than the pain, was the Dark _thing_ that Sirius could now feel on the edges of his perception. There was... _awareness_... on the other side of that connection that made Sirius want to curl into a corner and hide.

He only vaguely felt himself being grabbed and jerked away.

"Sirius! _Sirius!_ It's Harry. It's alright, it's okay!"

Sirius whimpered.

"Sirius!" Harry yelled. "Come on, Sirius! Focus! Breathe!"

Slowly, so slowly that it was agonizing, Sirius came back to himself.

He was... sitting on the ground? Harry was kneeling in front of him, his hands on his shoulders, while Little Harry spun in agitated circles just behind him.

"Fuck," he muttered when he could speak, his throat raw and scratchy.

Harry released a deep breath. "Oh thank God. Listen, Sirius, I need you to call the Order."

"The Order?" Sirius murmured, still confused, still lost in that horrible sense of dark _other_.

"Please, Sirius! I don't have time to explain! We're about to have company. _You need to call the Order._" With that Harry dragged Sirius to his feet, pulled out his wand, and tapped Sirius on the head.

Sirius shivered slightly as the familiar feeling of cracked eggs travelled along his spine. _Why did Harry make me invisible?_ Sirius asked himself, still not quite grasping the situation.

A series of loud _pops_ had Harry twirling around, clenching his wand tightly.

"Interesting," a new voice said. "You must be Harry Potter."

_Shit!_ Sirius mind screamed at him.

It was Voldemort.


End file.
